I was slogging myself up to my writing desk.
Tired, hungry, but
impatient to begin again, to unspool the story.
My mind, taut, battling my body.
Fighting the urge to move into the chair,
I heard the sweet siren song of the sheets.
The day seemed lost.
And then:
I found them.
Dark chocolate peanut butter cups.
No more can be said. My mouth is full. Today’s writing session is dedicated to Bob’s friend who left them behind.