Sitting in a darkening room surrounded by candles and a salt lamp. Looking out over a rain-swept, stormy bay, as always enchanting in its beauty. Silence, except for the wind.
But the most beautiful thing of all, a blank screen on the laptop before me, the cursor blinking its joyful message: Start typing here!
PS. I wanted to describe the beauty of the bay by using the phrase "fifty shades of grey" because that's how it looks. But someone has RUINED that expression. And I haven't even read the damn book.
2 comments:
the photograph is almost like walking into a John Constable landscape.
As for gray, who ever stops at fifty? A hundred and fifty, still counting.
Good point! A million and fifty might be more accurate.
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