“Do you want to write again?” he asked, shifting in a creaking seat, tapping a pen against the desk.

“Yes. But I’m finding it hard,” I replied. “I no longer write the way I used to. My heart was different then.”

“So what’s changed about your writing?”

For awhile I stared blankly, thinking about the hundreds of physical pages I had written on almost every day for the past several years. Journal upon journal of scrawled rambling depth, emotion, fear,  joy, and sadness; sentences riddled with epiphany and revelation while my blog collected dust at a dormant domain on the web. Continue reading “Signs” »