It’s evening, dark outside, quiet. She’s finished all of her chores for the day. She’s guilt free. The phone is quiet, no more messages ping. No distractions. Sleep will come calling sooner or later, but for now she sits down with a cuppa, picks up her favorite pen and begins to scribble.
It’s mid-morning in the busy little cafe. People come and go, chatting, distracting. There is always a queue, noises, distractions. People pass by outside, they peer in, they come in, distractions. The weather, the traffic, distractions. She attempts to focus on writing. She attempts to ignore the distractions.