Semi-Daily Scribbles

Cecilia hadn't equated writing with craft; creating art in large-small, quick-slow key strokes. She'd never given any thought to whether or not a novelist was an artist. Cecilia liked her stories ripe and spicy, with only a word or two needing to be looked up in the dictionary. She figured some just wanted to see if they could do it. Cecilia's brain turned soupy with excitement as she pondered what to do with her free hour after lunch. She became particularly fascinated with how she would look once she finished her book. Would there be tell-tale signs of having taken up with pad and pen? Would a golden ray of light follow her everywhere she went? There was really only one way to find out. Cecilia slammed back the bowl of salty broth set in front of her, and had every intention of beginning her work after she scouted out an inspiring spot within the gray-green walls of home.