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Fingers pose over lusterless keys, as Ven stares at the blank page before her. A fog, as thick as the gray soup masking the garden outside the window, floats thoughtlessly inside her head, smothering ideas before they can lift their heads from the mire that has apparently swallowed all creative ability.

Sighing, Ven tears at her hastily pinned bun with sun-marked fingers, and reaches again for the mug venting ghostly curls of steam into the dimly lit room. Lemon and honey merge on her tongue, as she sips and sighs, wishing for something, imperfect even, to surface inside her head.

(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: bun, imperfect, lemon)


Not the most epic of pieces, but I’ve been struggling with writing anything at all the past few months (pregnancy brain fog!), so this is pretty accurate of how I’ve been feeling. It can be challenging to write, when every effort feels like slogging through thickly-packed snow towering miles over one’s head, but I’m going to keep trying to push through. I am betting that my story weaving and posting will continue to be sporadic until my second child is born, and perhaps 6+ months after. 🙂


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