when you read something

You know when you read something and you get a lump in your throat or your eyes get teary; well behind that piece is a writer that cried his soul out for you in words.

She lets go

She lets go of them, one by one by one.  Until all have fallen onto the page. 

Her words escape her to belong to another, and another, and another. 

They are no longer hers.

 

Don’t disturb the writer

Step away from his writing room.  And keep his door closed.  (But have his window slightly open to let in fresh air.)

Now keep it quiet, so that he can hear the voices inside his head.

He will write something great, he promises.

A masterpiece he will dedicate to you and to me.

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When the week comes to its end

And the cars slow down, and the voices go hush, and the alarms are silenced.

When you don’t need to be anywhere, don’t need to speak to anyone, don’t need to meet a deadline.

That’s your cue to kick your shoes off, laze in your favorite spot and read a good book.

Have a good weekend.