100 Bliss on Writing

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You came to me in a flash, cigarette ash on a denim clad thigh and a vulnerability I could feel. I fleshed you out in a slow dance of words with the fast emotions you sought to speak. Thus you were born. Labor of love, many a night staring at a blank page; the thin line of the cursor my reminder of what was yet to come. Magic in a string of words, a guiding hope, the first paragraph was born. From there we flew on the wings of fast keystrokes all the way to the end of the page.


  A/N - This is an old 100 but I think its worthy. :)   

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