It used to stretch in front of me. It was good to me, letting me swirl my words around until they found a pattern that worked, until a character came to life, until a resolution was found. It wound itself between my legs like a loyal cat wanting its daily wet, sloppy food. It seemed endless some days when the words didn’t flow as easily as I’d like. Other days it flew by as quickly as my fingers tapped the keyboard. But it was always there.
Lately, it’s simply gone. It’s not mine any more. Obligations and responsibilities have taken over again. And it’s so very true that the common denominator in all our lives in the 24 hours we each have in every day. So, “my time” has disappeared. Something has to give. And I guess it’s simple. I give up sleep.
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