It's 5 am. This is my magic time. I love to write at this time. I wake up, make an espresso and get to work.
My brain sometimes works faster than my pen. I try to catch my thoughts. But I can't always capture it all.
I used to write with Chewbacca right by my side. He would lay next to me. And now that he's not here, it's different.
In my writing class for my MFA, I wrote a piece, and so I will share that today. So here is an excerpt:
We rush inside. They let us into her room. Jackie and Roberta are on their way.
My mom's face is swollen and turning black and blue. Her whole forehead is cut open and her mouth is bleeding. Her nose is flat. I think she broke it.
She looks so tiny. Like a little bird who fell out of a nest.
"Mom, what happened?" She looks at me. Her voice warbles. "I tripped after you left and went face first into my oven. I'm sorry to be a mess."
"Mom, I'm just glad you're okay. They have to check you for a concussion. They say, after that you can go home and you can spend a couple of days with me."
"Or with me," Annie says.
My mom looks at us. "Thank you girls."
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