Mesonoxian
She sat down poised
Hands ghosting black keys
Their lettering long since
Worn out and gone
The clock ticked
Her eyelids drooped
Her fingers moved
Clicking the keys
A story unraveled
A paragraph at a time
The old grandfather clock
Struck 12
She paid no heed
The story must be written
A tale of wonder
That needed her attention
She slowed her hands
To a gentle stop
Clicking one last key
Before she finished.
She looked out her window
And gazed at the moon
She gave a relieved smile
Before shutting her laptop
And going to get some well needed sleep