Writers Block Cravings

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At least once a week I have lunch at Sue’s Cafe in downtown St. Clair. Today, after a little spring cleaning, I knew I wanted to visit again.

The door chimed in the back as I entered, and the smell of baked goods wafted toward me. I stepped through the hall into the light, where empty chairs resided. I had the place to myself. Hemming and hawing over which sandwich to order, I proposed a change to my usual. Moments later, the chef came out, we rearranged two sandwiches to make one delicious hearty bite of chicken breast, sun dried tomato pesto, artichoke and spinach dip goodness. After my first bite, my taste buds were craving another, until I was left licking fingertips, wishing I had more.

I came to write, to catch up on the last few days and add to a novel I am writing. For a while,  I ate in silence. For a while, the music kept my attention on other projects. For a while, I gazed out at the blue-green river current. For a while, I did everything except focus on the novel that has me bound up in writers block.

Now, at the end of my chai tea latte, I am fresh out of thoughts, I mise well be having a stare down with a wall.

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