I decided to sit down and work on the next chapter of Undaunted this evening, and didn’t…not a word. The Relentless Wench Muse was in one of her moods, and I’ve learned that when She’s in one, feeding my inspiration has been temporarily deprioritized. And then stuff like this happens…
Still Here
It’s still here,
The same empty page…
Mirroring what refuses to be reflected
Not an image, not a sound, not a whimper
Not a syllable inflected as a whisper of silence says…
Wait
* * * * *
I’m going to bed…it ain’t happenin’ tonight.
Peace! G.