Where Do All The Untold Stories Go?

Where do all the untold stories go?

Maybe they drift aimlessly around the universe, being held captive while waiting to gently fall onto a blank piece of paper, or a not yet violated computer screen.

I have stories to tell.

Some stories may be fantasy, inspired when one looks at a rose and thinks, “I will throw it away, ‘when the last petal falls’.”  Or it could be a story prompted by a caller, who always leaves a message saying, “It’s me.”

Some untold stories may get a brief taste of freedom, only to become prisoners, locked away in a random file cabinet, or in an unnamed folder somewhere in cyberspace.

One of the cruelest fates of all…is an untold story.

Some stories can be of unspeakable torture.  Some stories can be of unbelievable kindness.

Some stories can be of one who has felt the warmth of another’s arms and the coldness of another’s shoulder.  Some stories can be of dying and death.  Some stories can be of birth and life.

Some stories can tell of humorous anecdotes.  Some stories can tell of early lives, when time was young and so were they.

Some stories can tell of fantastical, fire-breathing dragons.  Some stories can tell of horrible abuse from a terrorist alcoholic monster.

Some stories can tell of dreams that were never realized.  Some stories can tell of nightmares that became harsh reality.

Some stories can be of times when forgiveness was begged.  Some stories can be of one considering selling one’s soul to the devil, just for one small taste of sweet revenge.

Some stories can tell of laughter that ultimately turned into tears.  Some stories can tell of tears that turned into complete and utter surrender.

Some stories can tell of unimaginable loss.  Some stories can tell of indescribable happiness.  Some stories can tell of soul-killing grief.

There is no limit to the imaginings of an author, who has loved ones to hear their stories.

I have stories to tell.

I have stories to tell, but what good are they, when I have no one to tell them to?