Sipping her coffee, a gentle smile creeps cross her face, a warmth of contentment, while she reflects. What has her life meant, has she made a difference? Will any remember her name after she’s gone? Thoughts swirl as she looks down at the blank page, it beckons to her….write….just write. The words always come…she doesn’t search, but what do they mean? Are they frivolous, not worth the paper they are written on; or can they make a difference to those who would read. Answers to her questions, she had none, still the blank page beckoned, shouting, I’m here come to me, give me your passion, I will not disappoint. She took another sip of her coffee, the aroma kissed with the scent of Vanilla, her preference. Words on paper, simple contrast of black and white, crumpled easily and tossed away, or savored and read over and over again. The written word, I’ve often said is immortal, so long as it’s read…..May you be inspired to write today.
Copywrite Linda Rhades 2010