Crisis Short-Worded

Lincoln writes stories about man-eating penguins. He writes weird stories, and he knows it. He found his genre. Daisy writes to quiet the voices in her head. Her stories heal. Jordan lies awake at night. She doesn’t know what to write. Maybe she hasn’t found her genre. She sees her reflection in a black screen. It taunts her, the fleeting of time is echoed by the rising moon's gleam. What to write. A daydream? A romance? Poetry? A song and dance? Would any of it be enough? She sits and decides to write the world a word a time.