14. 100 / rock paper cat

Midnight is sneaking up on me, crouching in the day’s edges, waiting to pounce. I should be writing but instead I turn to rock, sinking my story-spin into frozen-earth. Stillness comes naturally to the hunted– maybe even more naturally than run. Wait feels safer than chase. The gravel of me wears a wedding dress of blank page. The vow to write today, and every day, … Continue reading 14. 100 / rock paper cat