Responsibility drags me from comforting quilts out into the sodden world.
My shoes, rain soaked by puddles, encase my feet in cold and damp.
The air conditioner chills my bones.
My attention drifts to the large wall clock and fixates on the second had tick-tick-tick-ticking away.
I nurture thoughts from deep within and retell yesterday’s tale with intuitive creativity.
My first draft practically perfect.
My thoughts stir up summer’s lazy mornings and conjure long, hot days filled with writing.
Two months to drench myself under a waterfall of words.