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

Let the wave wash over you do not be uprooted from what you believe and whom you trust As day turns into night the owl maintains its vigil the raven brings its dark news the nightingale sings its song But the sun will rise again the bees flit by flowers the sheep graze in the meadow the eagle stands sentinel No flood will destroy you No wind will strew you to pieces The fire will cleanse you make you stronger and whole

dragging one word out one at a time the rhythm refuses to stay to a tempo the pen hesitates ink blotches the paper when a rock blocks the flow of a river time and persistence wears it away unless a stick of dynamite shatters it to pieces. subtle or drastic over time or instant wait for inspiration to come or just keep on going and hope that an idea sparks into a raging flame.

I'm already a ghost No one sees me Invisible As if I'm not here They explain every detail to me although I was sitting right there when it happened. Very self absorbed to the point where I do what is necessary to keep the wolves away. They're so comfortable that I'm always there to fix things to bail them out to clean to talk to others on their behalf. I wonder what will happen if I just walk out that door and then they have to deal with people themselves.

Do imaginary friends count? Those voices you hear in your head. The characters you see only in your mind and when you try to put them down on paper they become recalcitrant They have their own thoughts personalities their own quirks which you didn't assign to them. This is their story not yours not anymore. They will see it through to the bitter end through hell and high water but not according to your plan, no matter how hard you shepherd them onto the track. Are they still your friends or have they become your worst enemies?