I didn’t write for a month. I’ve been lamenting my writing block, trying to figure out how to break through. I decided to examine it more closely.
I sat down in my favorite chair with coffee close to hand. Then Beadle started bothering the cat, so I told her to get down, and removed the cat to a higher perch. I settled back down and picked up my pen. Beadle pranced over to the couch and started chewing. I put down the pen.
That was 20 minutes ago and we’re back from a short walk. It would have been longer but Beadle found something nasty to eat and by the time I convinced her to drop it (i.e. pried her jaws open) my hands were so slimy I was disgusted and came home.
I washed my hands and picked up my pen. Beadle settled down with her squeaky toy. I wrote a sentence (squeak, squeak). Beadle dropped her toy and scratched her ear, tags jangled. I sighed and tried to remember the end of the sentence.
I think I figured out where April went.
Beadle went to the window to bark at a robin. I resisted screaming. Instead, I put Beadle in her crate. She curled up quietly with her bone.
Bye bye writing block.
Thanks for reading,
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