There was just a deer in the backyard. If you look closely, she is a blurry figure in the lower middle . . . can you see her? This is how I feel about my writing at this moment. I know it is there, but I just can't make it out . . . can't focus as I wade through boxes, looking for sheets, towels, a toothbrush! (Make that 5) But I know that it will come back as I find my footsteps again, get some sleep and start feeling at "home", appreciating the moments in between . . . my daughter and I having breakfast outside, looking at this view and her telling me with wonder, "I feel like I'm in a story . . ."
"Tell me the story!" I encouraged.
"I need paper!" She insisted, and for the next while I searched for paper until she was distracted by something else, and unfortunately, I was too.
Oh, that deer! She'll be back. For both of us!