Some day I will have one. A desk where all I do is write.
Okay…and maybe read.
But I will read to write. And this desk will have only what I need to write.
It will face something that inspires me. Anything but a blank wall. It will face a window. Or photos that move me. Or perhaps this:
It would have a vase with flowers. Notepads and pens. My laptop. A photo of me and my love. And that’s about it.
This writing desk would be my place to think, to dream. And to move beyond thinking & dreaming to words.
Words written on paper. Words that contain part of my soul, breathing from the page.
Someday I will have my desk. But for now I will write anyways. Wherever, whenever and however I can.
I realize it’s the words that matter, after all. Not where they’re written from.