The air outside is so still, and relatively quiet, for once.
“You have to write” it tells me.
“But I can’t,” I actually say out loud. “I can’t think of anything to write.”
“So write that” it responds.
The air outside is so still, and relatively quiet, for once.
“You have to write” it tells me.
“But I can’t,” I actually say out loud. “I can’t think of anything to write.”
“So write that” it responds.
