Freewrite had been studying the whole damned week.
It was a chaotic week, filled with dark-roast coffee and cotton sweaters, self induced wakefulness like a ritual. Now, it was Thursday, and Freewrite still hadn't completed his research. He sat groggily, frustrated, hunched over a dark cup of coffee with a pen in his hand and a book to his left.

On the other side of the desks were threescore discarded books that had offered little relevance to him. Friday was tomorrow. Freewrite looked at his wristwatch. It was already 9:58 pm.

Freewrite realized that his thesis was due the morning coming, so he knew that he had better have his research done. But, he didn't. It was the simplicity of the fact that comforted him, the idea that he could do nothing to better his situation. Especially by worrying, Heavens no. Worrying only made things work. He knew this, because he had tried it already for the past week.

Freewrite made a conscious decision to stop caring, and he stood up with his cup of coffee and stared out the window. "Hello, world." He said. He looked down at the mixed-up papers on his desk and sorted through them briefly. Truly, when he was honest with himself, which he rarely was, there was a substantial bit of relevant information here.

Freewrite realized again that it was almost Friday. But now, he wasn't afraid of it. He would face the night in spite and Write Write Write.


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LukeOverbeek almost 13 years ago

Um, paragraph three... that's "worse", not "work".

Galen almost 13 years ago

Worrying *could* make things work... maybe...

LukeOverbeek (joined almost 13 years ago)

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