Unobstructed

Ok, fine—most of the time I'm not excited about catching up on email.

As a writer I've never really dealt with writer's block in the way I've seen it described by others.

When I looked up, I was surprised to see the crowd had disappeared entirely.

The snow was starting to pick up. Wind, too.

Ski lodges have such a distinct smell.

Most days I wake up in a fog of confusion, but not today.

It was late, but my brain would simply not wind down for bed.

The sun was setting but I barely noticed the light being siphoned from the walls.

Last night, Isobel came over and sat down next to me on the couch. I pushed my laptop aside and she ...