This is hard

Just writing on the spot is kind of hard.  I guess it’s not supposed to be easy, if it was then everyone would do it.  Maybe I’ve got a ‘rose-colored glasses’ sort of thing going on because I think back and I have memories of the ideas flowing out like water.  Words blowing like a hard wind as I try to get them all down while they swirl.

Now it’s as if I’m standing in front of a wall and the wind and the water on on the other side.  I can hear the flow of the river and the whistle of the breeze but I can’t get to it.

But the point is to get it out, not to necessarily make it good right off the bat.  Something, at this point, is better than nothing.


He only knew her briefly but it was enough to want to know everything.  All of the ways she smiled and each different kind of breath she took.  She didn’t say much but she didn’t need to.  The few words she did use had an impact and it was like a blow to the head.



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