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She stared at the blank screen of her computer, waiting for inspiration to strike her.

Nothing happened.

She stretched, wriggled her shoulders and sat more comfortably in her chair, placed her fingers on the keyboard in the proper “home” positions and waited for the words to come spilling out.

Nothing happened.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and dramatically started typing at random. Opening her eyes, she read what had appeared on the screen, hoping for something close enough to a real word to appear and inspire her.

She deleted a string of utterly random characters.

She put the keyboard on her lap and turned her chair around, wondering if inspiration was merely being held back by the intimidating presence of a blank page on the screen. She waited for it to come through.

Nothing happened.

She put the keyboard back on the table and went to get a cup of tea. Perhaps inspiration would come through with the hot steam and sweet taste of a nice hot drink. She sat back at the desk with her tea and drank it, waiting for inspiration.

Nothing happened.

So she decided to write about not writing.

And that’s what happened.

© Kari Fay

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