It's cold this morning. I woke up shivering under my sheet, the blanket falling off during the night. I'm sitting outside this morning in the quiet morning the Sunday quiet the best quiet this neighborhood gets is on a Sunday.
It's a short prompt day so I'll just say that yesterday was spent in the company of writers and my ears Are still ringing with their words.
My head is still thrumming with your words too. What a gift these words are to me. They spark my own head make pictures and sound where there on e was just. Rain buzz to do lists and the white noise when life is full of busy work other than the words.
The street is empty of crows. This is th third day I haven't seen them. I don't know if they have found someplace warmer or are tucked into the nest but I feel their absence a cutely. I will have to chase them down in my writing since the streets are empty.
Just now I heard a distinctive barking. Crow. Now I am grinning like a crazy writing woman with an obsession with crows. They a re the muse for now. They are telling me to write.
Is today a day of r eat or quiet or play?
Whatever the day holds let's try and act as though it belongs to us completely. I tend to forget that myself. I act like my life was something they forgot to take with them when they left. An oversize of the committee in charge.
Today belongs to me and the crows calling at a distance. Today. Slings to you and your writing self even if it's biding it's time just now.
It's a short prompt day so I'll just say that yesterday was spent in the company of writers and my ears Are still ringing with their words.
My head is still thrumming with your words too. What a gift these words are to me. They spark my own head make pictures and sound where there on e was just. Rain buzz to do lists and the white noise when life is full of busy work other than the words.
The street is empty of crows. This is th third day I haven't seen them. I don't know if they have found someplace warmer or are tucked into the nest but I feel their absence a cutely. I will have to chase them down in my writing since the streets are empty.
Just now I heard a distinctive barking. Crow. Now I am grinning like a crazy writing woman with an obsession with crows. They a re the muse for now. They are telling me to write.
Is today a day of r eat or quiet or play?
Whatever the day holds let's try and act as though it belongs to us completely. I tend to forget that myself. I act like my life was something they forgot to take with them when they left. An oversize of the committee in charge.
Today belongs to me and the crows calling at a distance. Today. Slings to you and your writing self even if it's biding it's time just now.
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