Anticipation built within the pit of my stomach, and the quick-step beat of my heart swallowed me whole. I wasn’t scared, I was excited. The happiness that enveloped me encouraged my positivity.
The week ahead held promise of productivity. The enticing prospect of writing continued as the sequel to Nature’s Destiny took form. The large whiteboard mounted on the wall was scribbled with ideas of the journey that I’d need to write. My characters demanded it.
I was a slave to my own desires, indulging in my imaginative mind to create a work of fiction. I enjoyed the late nights and extremely early mornings when my thoughts came into fruition.
I was forever squeezing drops into my zombiefied eyes to diminish the fatigue I was denying. I sought after caffeine as if the future of the world rested on my ability to write, and without which I couldn’t function.
I was going to bed knowing that the moment I woke up I’d be delving into my world again. As long as I had the time and ability to write, I wasn’t ever going to be unhappy.
Writing satisfied my thirst for knowledge. I couldn’t wait to learn more.