The words blur, backspace bar in operation.
There’s not much time to write this story.
One thousand words lie between you and a completed task, a tied up tale, another assignment completed.
The radio’s on in the background, snacks on standby; reference books are to hand, cups of tea safely perched.
You’ve been here many times before. Sticky notes surround you, a lean bank account encourages constant effort, your mind whirls and spins into operation.
Over the years, you’ve nearly worn off your fingerprints with typing. You’ve lost count of how many computers you’ve worked to a stop.
You’re always thinking of topics for articles, chapters and…be careful what you wish for…books.
Your chair is only for you, so worn into place and padded with cushions that nobody else could possibly find it comfortable.
You have the guaranteed-to-work routine to get through obstacles and keep you going.
Sometimes you wonder why you bother.
Then you see your writing in print, and know that you’re leaving a tiny legacy, sending a small voice out into the ether, and gradually making your way in the world.
It’s all worth it in that moment.
Keep writing. Keep telling the story. This is what you do, after all.