A blank screen awaits me – again. I take a deep breath. Blow out. Today I will write my oft talked about memoirs.
I crack my knuckles, type a word. Another. Memories rush in, a tide of them.
Writing releases the genie from the bottle, uncaps the well, opens the floodgates. Writing is a wonderful and terrible thing.
I don’t stop, fearing the words will dry up. I don’t stop until I am spent, a river run dry.
It’s done. My memories captured in Times New Roman, 12pt. Ready for me to share with the world, or possibly no one.