There were no gowns, no caps, no tassels.
The sepia screen, segmented by boxes outlined in red and filled with tiny black type, heralded the truth. She’d passed. It was over.
That was it. No ceremony, no pictures, no flowers. Congratulations were posted on facebook and forgotten by the time they scrolled off the page.
Her calendar suddenly opened up. Tasks shoved to the back burner began to queue up to find their place nearer the top of the To Do list, awaiting their check marks. She pulled out her planner and began to jot down all the ideas now free to flow out and be considered.
A sigh of relief escaped as she stretched from being hunched over the notebook. She popped her writing knuckles. The list was made. Post-its were grouping thoughts, projects, themes; the bookmarks of the written world. The calendar was filled.
It was time to begin.