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

Comments

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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