Writing Life
The smoothness of the yellow coating pencil was comfortable in her hand. As she pressed the small-shiny gray tip down, her handwriting boldly scratched against the bright-white paper. Roughly the pencil transcribed each of her words, which flowed from whiten her. Moments later, with her rough outline completed, she began transcribing her scenes on a blank Word document. The rhythm of the clicking keys relaxed her. As her flow ended, she studied each sentence and reread each paragraph. What else could she add. What did she need? What did she want to know? What would be important to her readers? Taking a sip of her hot cappuccino, the bitter-cream taste of hazelnut and vanilla filled her mouth. The cream gathered around her lips. Automatically, her tongue swept across them and gathered the cream. Still feeling the uncomfortable residue, she quickly used the back of her hand, wiping the wetness onto the side of her jeans. Her whole concentration was on her bright computer screen. Not knowing where to go next, she clicked on file and print. Chemical fumes burst in the air as hot ink splattered across the printer paper, as the laser buzzed with a comfortable racket. Taking another sip of coffee, she leaned against her chair. When the hum of the printer ended, she placed her freshly typed words next to her computer. Reaching for a sticky-note and pen, she scrawled, “Edit tomorrow!” Shutting her lap top lid, she finished her coffee and went to bed.
Copyright 2017 Lynette Lee
