Another rainy day. The house is clean and I may find some
cubby to sort but I’d really like something else to do today. Where is my creative
muse? I sit at the paper journal and write nothing. Is my life that boring? No
Haiku for poetry month. No new stories. Egads. Is sitting, eating, and watching
TV my only choice? Even walking was short and slow yesterday. Maybe I’ll step
out early before the wind and get some relief from this unfocused restlessness.
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