A little over a year ago, I decided to learn to play the ukulele. The effects of that decision have been wonderful. I get out of my house and away from my computer to go to practice. I’ve met interesting new people whom I really enjoy. I have a way to make music by myself for a few minutes each day, which is relaxing and good for me. That uke is a wonderful thing.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “effects.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

5 thoughts on “Effects”

  1. The lack of integrity and the lack of communication had a dark effect on her life. She was wrongly blamed for things and they had never let her explain them. It seemed to just grow, one misunderstanding leading to more false assumptions, and by never resolving the issues, they only led to more resentment and hurt feelings, taking on a life of their own til it became the monster between them; all the things never said, or the hurtful things that were said, the false assumptions, the lies, unresolved conflicts and painful moments became the dragon she could never slay.

  2. She noticed the shakiness as she walked towards the stove. “How are you feeling this morning, Veronica?”

    “Not well, not well at all,” she said in a frail, shaky voice. Her 93-year-old, four foot eleven inch frame was somewhat hunched over the stove warming up some milk to take with her pills.

    “What is it exactly that you feel? Lucia asked concerned “Is it your stomach? Are you dizzy?”
    She shook her head and said with a trembling voice, “I feel very anxious, like I want to crawl out of my skin…”

    “Thank God you have a doctor’s appointment today, but I think you’re experiencing some withdrawal effects from not having taken your anxiolytic medication for the past three days. Why did you wait until you had none left?”

    “I didn’t realize I had no more refills,” she said with a pained look on her face. “I’m only 93, what do you expect?

  3. Of course, not all is beautiful. The ukelele has brought to light some aspects of me that I’d been hoping to avoid — the darkness that comes when I hit the low notes. It makes the whole room grow dark and the ever-present pain in my chest disappear. Playing it, I feel my body light and numb, and my demons fly away. But it’s temporary, I know that for a fact. As soon as I stop playing, they come back to me, somewhat stronger by each note I played. The instrument empowers me, but it also empowers them.

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