First thing in the morning on the weekend and all I can think about is writing, but when I sit down at the laptop the words have to be pulled out like rotten teeth. Each word wiggles a bit, but not loose enough to stick under a pillow, or small enough. Each word is enormous and requires drastic measures. Coffee?
With the smart speaker playing something the greats would’ve listened to (what did Bradbury like while writing?), and a cup of coffee steaming on the ceramic black and white coaster, the words begin to march along in single file — the molars trying to keep up.
How much easier would this be if I’d kept my wisdom teeth?
It’s approaching midnight and there’s still a few more words to find. Somewhere out there is at least one more sentence…