When I was young and things were good, when I wasn't busy with either of my jobs, when it was winter and it was cold and I preferred to stay inside, sometimes I would write. Not much. Not anything long, not anything worth attention. It was a bit childish, really, but I'd write down some amateurish attempts at poetry. I'd write about friendship, and about love.

Nowadays I have more free time than I used to. Sometimes I use some of it to go scrub off moss from where I don't want it to grow. But I don't write anymore.

An entry into the 2nd A Thousand Words contest, under the "Drama" category.

Prereading courtesy of Reviewfilly.