The other night, I finish going over my editor's final notes on my book, Save Him, and shut down the computer for the night. Grab a beer and remember I have to take down the laundry from upstairs in my son's room and make his bed. He makes his bed by throwing the comforter back over it. I appreciate the effort, the lump of a comforter and the sheets underneath all bunched up, but I make his bed anyway. Finished, I glance out the window across from my son's bed, and there is a lady standing on my lawn. Well, not really on it, at the edge. Behind her, a car makes its way down the street. She just stands there, head tilted down like she's looking for something.
I head downstairs to help her. Maybe she was walking her dog and lost her phone or something. Get outside, and she's gone. I look to my right, and she's rounding the corner down the block. Go back inside and make my way down to the man cave. Turn on my computer, and start writing Lady on the Lawn.
As of tonight, I have over 3000 words written.
Weird how it works sometimes.
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