The ink was not yet dried on the last story. Discomfort, loneliness, creative discontent? "Don't tell me what I'm feeling damn it! I just want to ..." She caught her angry tantrum by the ear, poured a glass of water and had a good chuckle at herself. There wasn't anyone there with her. The conversation was just enough to tease her from judging. "This is not a court of law," Pupuka continued. "This is my life and to live it, I write." The sudden late summer squall must have brought with it all the makings for watery splashings. Not yet willing to let there be a void here she is opening up another blog. What's that all about? Impatience. Need for something to water.
Yes, well that may not be a good start, or reason enough to start but there it is. Where to go? Not sure, but maybe there's something.
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