Hope
The author sat at her desk, pen in hand, gazing down at thefresh blank page in front of her. Snatches of ideas were scattered through hermind. Fragments of storylines and characters but the words to connect them weremissing.She took a sip of her wine and sighed.Words and sentences and whole paragraphs used to flow sofreely from her pen…but that was before. Now, every word and sentence…
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