Let yesterday’s thoughts lie in the graveyards they belong to. What is true is only the here and now.
The writer’s block hits at this moment, and a white screen stares at her.
“Your truth feels blank at times, but remember it is infinity – with the potential to take you ahead,” the lines from her grandmother’s last letter blinks in neon on consciousness, “I never did wear a shabby dress, nor entertained a shabby thought.”
She wonders how Grandma completes her thoughts at times. Surely, there is perfection on the other side, and she needs to wait for her turn.