Here I sit, alone and quiet, save for my faithful old companion contentedly snoring at my feet, the rain clack-clacking against a foggy bay window, and that damnable little white screen constantly ratcheting up its silent challenge.
This is a putative writer’s fate.
This is my obstinate ego’s unspoken misery – and delight!
Some days, words thrust and parry with a gentle sophistication or an unbridled joy. Other days, like today, demand my fullest attention just to rouse them from their sleep.
It’s all good though