BF Week 2: Lazy river
The writing prompt had thrown the girl for a loop. She sat, hands hovering over the keyboard as if waiting for the inspiration to zip from her brain, down her arms, and out of her fingers. Each night she sat like this as that single, confounding word swam between her ears looking for an idea to wash up on. But such a shore was never found.
The word continued to float along the lazy river of the girl's mind in its perpetual, clumsy search for a life outside itself. Its fingers and toes were pruned, and its inner-tube sprung a slow leak that whined as it wound through the girl's consciousness.
Suddenly feeling a headache coming on, the girl decided to go to bed.
The word continued to float along the lazy river of the girl's mind in its perpetual, clumsy search for a life outside itself. Its fingers and toes were pruned, and its inner-tube sprung a slow leak that whined as it wound through the girl's consciousness.
Suddenly feeling a headache coming on, the girl decided to go to bed.