An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

All I want is a quiet day where I can bask in the sunshine and free from my cares. The sound of ocean waves rolling as the tide comes in seagulls fighting over treats the laughter of children at play My notebook and me recording every sight and sound sketches in the margins to jog my memory. The smell of food from a nearby cafe loud music booms over the boardwalk. Try my hand at casting the line the other fishermen nod at me and hope for a good catch. For once in a lifetime able to put aside my worries say hello to my creative muse and set her free.

( "Write about a woman named 'tomorrow'" prompt from The Writer's Retreat Kit by Judy Reeves ) At the edge of reality not quite formed not quite there Tomorrow waits for her time on the stage. Yesterday has already made her curtain call and joined the ranks of those who have had their time in the sun. Today commands the stage captivates Her audience hands out favors on a whim makes her displeasure known with no rhyme or reason. Tomorrow recites Her lines in her mind. It has to be perfect. Yet her performance hinges on what Today does and on what Today leaves behind. She must improvise on the results left to Her. Some events are preordained others are left to hilarious chance. For now She watches and She anticipates Her time in the lights and She knows full well another ingenue also named Tomorrow will follow in Her footsteps.

My Muse is so fickle: Here one day, gone the next. Gets interrupted by stray thoughts Distracted by shiny things "Hold that thought, let's explore this!" I can barely keep up with Her. Inspiration comes and goes when I need Her guidance She holds up a finger and says, "Not yet, not right now." Then at three in the morning She yells into my ear: "Hey, here's an idea!" The light bulb appears in dreams that fizzle out when I wake. But sometimes, just sometimes She comes in and prods me in the right direction. I listen, she chatters on and I take notes with a smile.