a preamble of sorts
Barren trees in a vast landscape of snow form the backdrop for these words. I hear every stroke of the keyboard as if I've returned to the days of typewriters and blank white paper. An additional soundscape which one would first think may be distracting actually helps the mind center on the writing space. A strange new tool, this might finally release the words I've been holding in all my life.
Struggling to speak could become a thing of the past. Then again, the struggle can rear its head without notice at any time and, for the moment, cause it all to end again abruptly. Until next time, then, when I'll try to speak again...
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