She leaned wearily against the table in front of the college class, one arm on the podium where her lecture outline dozed, the attendance sheet a thin blanket over her notes. The room settled, notebooks snapped open, and pens rested easily in young hands, skateboards flipped and stashed under desk chairs, backpacks collapsed on the floor. Continue reading
exhaustion
NanoWriteMore
She dropped her pen, hand cramping. Why had she defined success as the number of pages she filled? Continue reading
Bouquet of Shadows
I hold this in my cupped hands,
Stare into its depths.
Red and orange flicker, leap and stab.
Smoky, shifting colors blacken and curl
Its abundant petals. Continue reading