A sentence that stopped
Something you began to think before the rest disappeared.
Not every thought arrives as a story.
Not every feeling knows its ending.
Keep the fragment before it learns how to explain itself.
“I almost remembered
what I wanted to say…”
A fragment does not owe us a conclusion. Sometimes the truest thing is the piece that never became whole.
A half-sentence. Three words. A line from a dream. An image you cannot yet explain. A feeling that makes sense only in fragments. My Scraps is where those unfinished pieces can remain unfinished.
No category is required, but sometimes a name helps us leave something down.
Something you began to think before the rest disappeared.
A room, a face, a colour, a place or one strange detail worth keeping.
A fragment of emotion that does not need diagnosis or explanation.
A phrase, image, title, beginning or line that may—or may not—grow later.
Do not improve it first. Do not make it sensible. Put down only what arrived.
Some fragments will become stories. Some will remain exactly as they are. Both are complete possibilities.
A fragment may have done its work simply by being written once. You may keep it. You may return to it. Or you may let it disappear without turning that into another unfinished obligation.
A life is not written only in finished pages.
Sometimes the loose pieces tell the truth first.