A Writer’s Life
Morning reigned as the sky shifted in bright aestheticism. A new day for a writer; what would Willow write about today? Maybe the flowers or the pink lakes in Australia.
Willow sipped from his cup of coffee and sat at the patio to carry out his meditation ritual — for him, it was no thinking, no writing. His cat didn’t agree. It’d been weeks since he took a break, maybe today was the…