Nowhere but here

It’s 8:17 pm on a beautiful spring night in Oregon. The temperature in the 60’s. Outside, there is a steady conversation between four or five of the neighborhood pet dogs. I have a window fan on low that keeps a  steady drop in degrees of my room. My Aquos LCD television is muted but the steady hum of the electricity reminds me of the baseball game I am monitoring.

I have my own dog, he’s part Frenchie and sleeps soundly with the steady snort of his breathing at the foot of my bed. Looking around I see the sparce decorations and bare walls. The sounds that echo off that emptiness,  amplifies those sounds coming from outside. The sounds still draw my attention. A basketball is being dribbled outside the front yard. And finally the clicking of my keyboard centers my focus on my laptop.

I’m comfortable, cool, snuggled in my bed describing life around me. I’ve worked hard today at my day job but still, the drive to write keep my fingers typing and my imagination active.

As a writer and reader, I keep magazines, notebooks,  coffee cups and totes strewn about the room. Yeah, this is exactly where I want to be, in my little duplex bedroom, sitting on my funky, brown duvet. I hear my partner coming in and watch my dog run to her. I wouldn’t want to be nowhere but here… and I am blessed.





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