I haven’t written in a while. The serrated avocado green sits under the word “haven’t” and smatters Microsoft word with the charm of cumbersome grammatical nuances. The blinking letter generator awaits electric jolts of nerve-prodding into the flat letter sequences laid out at my fingertips. A valley of white pulsates underneath a three sentence by six-inch size ten Times New Roman block of invading space fences called letters. Gravity becomes a slow, verbose crawl and the ground is ever-sinking and never approaching.

It’s summer time, and I can [type] again.