[10: what is ritual]

I’ve no idea what I want to write today. I’m exhausted, and still not quite
done with taxes. I think of the word ‘ritual’ and I instantly long for the time
to have any that aren’t interrupted by work.

I want to wake up energized. Maybe that’ll be tomorrow, if I finish my taxes.
Maybe I’ll have to unbury myself from the work I’ve ignored the past few weeks
first. I hope more doesn’t pile up while I wait.

I want a new ritual. One that has enough space between the motions to breathe.

Breathe.

Don’t have to do anything.

Breathe.

I’ll finish accounting tonight.

Breathe.

I like the imaginary apartment in my head that I will live in. I hate either
the electric stove or the streetlight that comes in the window though.

When you’re stuck, make a list of what wouldn’t happen next.

Write the ending first.

You admire a character more for trying than success.

Thank you Emma.

----

Meera shut he door of her uncle’s room and leaned against the wall. Tears
splashed down her cheeks and she didn’t care. She slid down the wall and sobs
took her. 

----

The phone rang at two that morning. In the dim light, she fumbled for the
ringer, hoping that she was the only one it had awoken, though she knew it
wasn’t the case. Dick stirred in the bed, and he turned over so he could at
least see what was going on.

“Hello?”

A change in the tone of her voice.

“I’ll be right there.”