The dog is sleeping on the bed,
and the cat is sleeping on the floor,
and I’m sitting at my desk
watching the snow fall quietly outside.
It’s beautiful,
and still,
and I feel comfortable right now.
I feel more comfortable than I
have felt in a long time.
But I still know that
I need to write something.
Whether I’m comfortable or not,
I still need a story.
Or an idea.
Or anything.
Ehh, I think,
or maybe I’ll just watch the snow fall.
Because it is kind of pretty,
and I really wouldn’t mind if
I got nothing done.
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