UnwrittenMature

My hands hover over the keyboard.

My ring finger on my left hand reaches for the shift button in a habit to capitalize the first letter of the first word in the sentence.

But every time I get close to it, I hesitate....

What do I write?

What do I write?

I type a word.

I delete it.

I type the same word and delete it again.

I have a story in my head but I can not get it out.

I clench my fists.

I unclench my fists.

Either flow out of my fingertips at 72 words per minute or get out of my head.

I close my eyes and breathe out.

I crack my knuckles and run my hand through my hair.

I retract my hands from the keyboard and shut my laptop.

I have the uncontrollable urge to throw it across the room and watch it shatter.

I want to watch it burn.

I can't write.

What was I ever thinking?

A writer?

I will never be that person.

But I have to write.

Otherwise how else will I be able to live?

 

 

The End

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