What can YOU say in six sentences?
Having my little shared office to myself for the afternoon, I sat at my desk with a lidded thermal cup half-filled with tepid coffee from before my morning class to one side of my laptop and a tax balance sheet to the other; on the screen 372 words directed toward a heartwarming chapter of my NaNo opus, and they, refusing to cohere in a meaningful manner, thrust their collective tongue at me, so that I’d swear they were whispering we dare you to feel good about yourself. I found myself moving my lips in silent prayer, though I’d be the first to acknowledge that kind of activity is strictly outside my realm of occurrence, and I could feel eyes on me, which embarrassed a bit, but not overly so. As I thought it, I saw the word lord appear in my mind, and as I was writing on my brain slate, quickly emended it to read Lord, in case He was the One watching. Lord, I prayed, help me find time to finish all the tasks set before me, but especially those I’ve set for myself, please. In the cooing that followed, I thought He was laughing at the temerity with which I asked for attention to such insignificant (to the Big Picture, at least) details, and thought, yeah, that’s about what I deserve. When the pigeon on the windowsill pecked at the glass pane causing me to turn and catch sight of it before it flew off, Ockham’s Razor crossed my mind, closing those Lordly eyes, and appropriately returning my attention to the balance sheet thereby leaving word 373 to come along later, at home, over a fresh cup of coffee.