No inspiration, just need to write.

It’s a thing. It’s our thing. I wonder if she feels this way. Not necessarily inspired, but just in a peaceful, sort of obligatory way. Looking at her laptop, sipping some tea, watching minutes go by in work, research, project building. We all have our little projects to run. If you think about it, it is rather cosy. Chances are, you are not the only one on the laptop at this late hour; chances are someone somewhere is also overcoming tiredness and putting the blocks together, just like you and me. Chances are something will eventuate from it. We just need to wait and plod along. What do you think?

The white cat is curled up in the corner. The woman is drinking tea. Or coffee. Either or the drink has long gotten cold, yet she keeps sipping it. Just like I said, no inspiration, she just needs to work.

We have fantasies, we have dreams, we have things we imagine in the privacy of our rooms. Sometimes those fantasies find their way out in the most beautiful form. Sometimes someone has to do the miles.

I am doing the miles.