All day, and even when I woke briefly in the night, I have thought of things to write.
Bright snatches of sentences come in and out of focus while I'm busy doing everything else.
But in the end I sit in front of the computer with the promise of writing while my wonderful husband washes up again, and I am lost for words.
It reminds me of spending all day dreaming up dinner, trying out ingredient outfits, and in the end, opening the fridge, closing it, making pasta al burro, a comfy jumper that covers all.
Today for once I'm not tired and I'm not lacking time, but I am lacking courage to sit here for as long as it takes to write what I really want to say.
No comments:
Post a Comment