A recent 100-words entry:
It's hard to get up in the early mornings when the world is still pitch-black and even the sound of traffic in this large city is muted. The lights seem almost too bright for my eyes as I sit here at the computer, willing the words to come, willing the coffee to seek a path through my muddled brain and force coherent syllables from my fingertips to the keyboard to this white box where I type each day, squeezing thoughts from my tired mind, thoughts that maybe someday I'll be happy to look back on and grateful to have.
It's hard to get up in the early mornings when the world is still pitch-black and even the sound of traffic in this large city is muted. The lights seem almost too bright for my eyes as I sit here at the computer, willing the words to come, willing the coffee to seek a path through my muddled brain and force coherent syllables from my fingertips to the keyboard to this white box where I type each day, squeezing thoughts from my tired mind, thoughts that maybe someday I'll be happy to look back on and grateful to have.
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