Hope Over Sludge

by Ethel

She awoke to another gray, uninspired day. It wasn't only a weather outlook, but a thought-depleting day, once again. The mental fog overwhelmed her mood and physical being, making it nearly impossible to come from beneath the covers into the dismal-feeling morning, yet again. As usual, her first cogent thought was perhaps today would begin a new thinking process. Possibly this would then be backed up by a doing of things differently, to change her ever-constant dark mood. She longed for this to be a day that would be full of warmth and light, even if it had to be generated by artificial means.


Ethel, who told The Lie, is hoping to recapture her creativity. It became misplaced while she was busy taking care of others. Now she is trying to take care of herself.


Quin said...

hope is a trojan horse... every day you open it to find what's there. keep opening it, and keep writing.

mgirl said...

Wow, I can understand that feeling. AS quin said keep writing , I sense you are coming out.

austere said...

been there.
With the long sentences, you've caught that dread of an open white,blank page.

Anonymous said...

Excellent "six sentences," Ethel. I recognise those feelings of being dragged downwards.

Madam Z said...

Ethel, I recommend Prozac! Another SSRI that helps me is:
Six Sentences Restores Inspiration.