I sit down at my desk to write, hoping for inspiration, the sun streaming in through the window, nearly blinding me until I adjust the shades. My coffee mug sits, steaming, to the right of my laptop. It feels like a random day of pulling words out of the ether, sliding them into yesterday’s essay, until a movement catches my eye: a raccoon perched on the outside window ledge, peering in. Fat body, a broad striped tail, a robber’s mask on his face. I stare. He stares. He does not turn away. It’s obvious he’s come to steal my words.
Christa Loughrey
26/1/2024 09:35:30 am
I rather think he came to give you inspiration, Nancy, or we might not have had this story.
Paul A. Freeman
26/1/2024 10:40:01 am
Alas, the paranoia of the writer. 26/1/2024 04:22:48 pm
Oh, the excuses we make when our minds are too lazy to write. I think you owe the raccoon a treat. Nice story.
Sue Clayton
27/1/2024 11:08:58 pm
You could be inspired to write about animal word thieves.
Cheryl Dahlstrand
28/1/2024 06:32:22 pm
Ironically, it's those minor distractions that do slow down writing process. Nice humorous conclusion! Comments are closed.
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