My attempt at following the "No E" excerise, as posted over here. I really need to get a decent thesaurus and start carrying it around with me, lol. Still, this isn't terrible for writing most of it while on break from work.
Follows loosely in with my novel, And You Tell Me I Am Home, though you don't have to have read it to follow the piece.
Jay works past midnight. It's not that his writing is so important it can't wait until morning, but his inspiration hits at two a.m. Typing away, Jay can't think of his old girl, or of his pain from that loss. Both said such a union couldn't work, it was mutual. It wouldn't suit him to wallow if distractions could sway his mind.
So now, Jay counts stars out his window, pricks of light in a pitch black sky. Words will flow from his hands, from his mind. It's not brilliant, but this job pays his bills, and so Jay can't complain. His only wish is to talk about such things with his girl again, about passions, about art.
Jay lays down around four, knowing morning is coming soon. Tomorrow will pass, just as all days prior. In a month, two months, his mind won't think about it constantly; his girl will drift away.
(Word count: 154)
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