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4-24-18 NaPoWriMo |
In the Midst of a Chapter; a Poem Wee hours of the morning-- quiet except, it's not. Warmer temperatures and the house creaks as if stretching cramped timbers. The refrigerator thumps and grinds-- as if using its last legs to run laps around the dining room. The dog snores at my feet and my computer chair creaks every time I shift position. Night music to write to as I burn midnight and 2:09 am oils to finish my book. It's all there in my head: the voices muttering away, nagging at me for their time to speak. Stories come together, overlap, inter-twine. The tension builds-- can't rush it, got to let it all play out. Masks wear thin while yet others are donned in anticipation: they all wear masks, you see. To hide behind or hide from-- even the ones who don't even know they are masked. But the Masquerade draws nigh and all masks will come off. Need to get back to it, but I'm running out of yawns and dawn is but three hours away. |