This morning's 100 words:
I have only a few minutes to write this entry, perhaps ten, and it's always on days like this when I need to write quickly--think quickly--that I can't roust a topic from my tired mind. Instead I think of the day ahead, what needs to get done, the places I have to go, and somehow that thinking always seems to spiral out to scenes I don't want my mind to recall, at least not so early, not when I've just woken up and the day is still new and horrible memories still seem shadowy and faraway.
I have only a few minutes to write this entry, perhaps ten, and it's always on days like this when I need to write quickly--think quickly--that I can't roust a topic from my tired mind. Instead I think of the day ahead, what needs to get done, the places I have to go, and somehow that thinking always seems to spiral out to scenes I don't want my mind to recall, at least not so early, not when I've just woken up and the day is still new and horrible memories still seem shadowy and faraway.
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