Atop a picturesque mountain lays a single house with a view of the valley. Lust folliage clothes the eastward side of the mountain in the a checkerboard of green. Simone peeks out her door to greet the morning, alone with her thoughts and silent chatter.
"What's a writer to do with this beautiful day?" Her voice interrupting the calm. Simone left teh city to find her voice and re-embrace the things she loved about her craft.
The visceral beeps from hurried taxis in the street startled her, unfurling her lips and tightly wincing, Simone made every attempt to shake teh crowd. Shivering, she gave a violent shake and decided to focus forward. "It's no wonder I couldn't think on Broadway. This is much better."
Slowly shifting her attention back to the rising steam from the fresh coffee and the fog on the canyon lifting, Simone relished in the new day.
Friday, November 14, 2008
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