Sitting down at the keyboard, a blank screen in front of her, and nothing falling out of her fingers. Belabored typing brings nothing but a garbled mess.
“Ah yes, she’s talking to herself now too. Brilliant.”
“Maybe it’ll look better in the morning. Let’s just scrap it for now and start fresh tomorrow. "
And so on, and so on, for many days. “Too many days.”
“Life happens, but for a writer, what’s the point if you aren’t writing it?”
" Maybe she’s absorbing it. Storing life for a later time."
“Let’s keep watching and see what she does next.”