Words were everything to me. I counted on them to be there when I was bored. I cherished my words and what they could do, what they could tell me. My words gave me power. They gave me hope. They gave me friends.
So why then, had they left me? Where did my words run to in the night?
I remember waking up one morning to fetch my words like always, but in their place stood an empty void. I was terrified.
My words were gone, they had run off and left me in the dust.
Now I sit and long for my words to return. My friends, my stories, all gone. Did they not know how much I loved them?
I go about my day like I've done a million times before, but nobody can see how desperately I want my words back. Every time I sit down at my desk to get my words, they're just not there.
Maybe one day, I tell myself. One day my words will return. Until then, I decide that I will not stop trying to get them back.
I turn to the only thing I can think to do. I read.
I read the words of the past. I read the words I once knew. I read the words that others have shown me. I am determined to get my words back.
All through the night I read, I think, I dream.
When I awake the next morning, something feels different. My head is swirling with thoughts, ideas, pictures, and stories.
I smile a little, then my face breaks out into the grin of a lifetime, because I know...
I smile a little, then my face breaks out into the grin of a lifetime, because I know... my words have returned to me.
Hey anyone who is reading this! I know I have not written in a while *sadness* :( So this is just a tiny story I came up with about writer's block. Hope you enjoyed!!! - @fivecents