Here is what mindful writing day is and also what a small stone is http://www.writingourwayhome.com/p/small-stones.html and here is mine, based on my day. I am not sure if I followed the directions right but here is what came out!
I come up the steep narrow cellar stairs of the charity shop with sorted skirts matching A Lines with leatherette belts the thirty year old wardrobe of a woman most likely dead to pad out the rails. She stands guard on the front door, today has been the first day I have noticed the electronic bell that peals when it opens, it has been so warm the door was wedged open right through October. We are discussing the drunk who has threatened our manager, she twice his age is watching the drunk make a circuit of the charity shops on street. We rarely turn away the confused or even notice shoplifting, we have no security to bundle them out. I have become used to dealing with the drugged and mentally ill been accused of conspiracies involving suitcases. With her foot on the door and a fierce eye down the street I say ‘’he’s probably not well’’ they say he’s just a drunk I say these things go hand in hand, he should have treatment. I consider the boundaries of my lush deep bleeding heart and all the people who have taken advantage of it and think I would not trade it for a more sensible and firm kind.