So it is clear. It is in front of the screen that I find my true calling. Fingers on the keyboard or holding a pen, files, papers, paraphernalia strewn about the table, as if completing the picture. No matter the health but I am slowly being brought out of misery. And gee, even writing too. Something that has eluded me mercilessly, knowing fully well how much I needed it. But I smile. It is tantalizing, is it not? As if it is telling me I will have to wait my turn. Longing is not enough.
