knee injury Knee, injured

nasrin khosrowshahi


She is wearing her new red top, she is typing, she is out of words before she even began. So, she did not do the writing-thingie for some time now, she travelled, she looked out the window, she took different trains in different times and watched people, she drew little smiley faces, now it is time again, to sit hunched over in a darkened room and type and type and type some more. She ponders, for some reason, this text is not doublespaced, she has to find the right button to press, in order to fix this, eleveate this. She ponders, do writers pen ELEVEATE or FIX, do the ones that use EL:EVEATE make more money per word, less, the same. It is june here, still, Vancouver is so much nicer than new York this time of year, then again, the reluctant suburbia is making her vomit, yep, this is how it is, that is how it is. And her knee is still injured, she sits here, does not move Aropunfd, just watches her fingers peck at the typing machine. 182 words, yay and yay and yay. Day, reluctant She thinks that she should just feed some more words to the machine, before driving down to the mall to join the rest of the retirees for their morning coffees. She just strolled down the 1736 fellow linked-inners that poppd up in her inbox, apparently they are all off to better and brighter things. She has one connection to an animator and it seems that all these people are linked to her by him- she ponders, it is more likely that they all alumnied in the same year that she did. She is confused, something does not seem right, she has to answer urgent e-mails, she has to clean the kitchen, ah, run from all these responsibilities, run, run, run. 311 words, ah, I’m a poet and I sure know it.


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