October 22, 2006
The mood was set by the waves. The sun was beating desire into me. The sand was near isolation, minus a few leathery stragglers. The wind was trying to knock the pages out, but my fist wrapped pen held it down. Still, they wouldn't come. You know what I'm talking about. All the things racing around in the head that just won't settle down. I was looking over my shoulder, sure they were calling my bluff, reading my mind. Even the pelicans above were sneering at the nothing I was producing. Maybe its time I break until it comes back.