Hot cuppa coffee brewing on a windy Sunday morning,
it’s not a brunch for a late morning person like me.
Mom’s threatening voice makes me roil and jump out of bed.
A shivering but sultry winter held me in ambush as I curl inside the thick blankets to feel the warmth .
I was in the middle of the war during the night.
Busy as the bee on a Sunday,
there are blogs to write, newspaper to scan and a novel to write.
Yet, ideas failing as I feel a smote inside the dark grey cells.
Too many distraction surrounds life,
FIFA World Cup, social networking and silly banter with old chums.
A voice roars in the head, ‘For how long you will run away and shirk from creative exercises?’
Just do it!
I am no tag line.
The table is in utter chaos, books, pens, old newspapers turning yellowish and books lay scattered on the table.
The coffee is becoming cold and the diary is blank for days.
Lazy bum! How tomorrow never comes for you?
No bird is chirping, no dogs barking yet the flowers blooming in its bud, gently fluttering to the whims of the breeze.
I long for the Scotch yet no money to buy.
It’s gonna be a beautiful day as the wind blows furiously.
Candle light dinner and romantic date with the unknown, beautiful women blowing my head and mellowing the heart.
Light tattle here and there adding spice to the afternoon.