I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing in the morning over the last several days. I write but when I can only and never for long. This morning’s writing is more of a finger stretcher than anything. I don’t expect you’ll enjoy what follows.
An empty red cup draws your attention to the right side of an organized desktop gone to seed. Neat stacks of opened and ignored bills slump like a melting winter hillside into within-reach headphones and white recharging cables. These electronic accessories inches above the drawer they once were and again should be tucked into.
Making a line from the red cup you’ll find a matable blue cup from the same restaurant; a paper cup half full of warm fountain Sprite completes that line-up.
The dust aging on the wide glass top shows signs of fingertip wear and cuff erosion on the way back to a mouse recharging station that stands sentry absent its charge.
This is my desk.
163 words on day 744