Rosemary PoV
I stared out at the window as I contemplated what to write. Lately, my writing had been slow. The words just wouldn't come. And when they did, they were clunky and uninspired. It was frustrating, to say the least.
I sighed and pressed my head against my desk. And I thought I would have time to write my novel while Anis was at her granny Dahlia's. But the words just wouldn't come. Anis was usually my inspiration, but that with children books. For this novel, I wanted to write something... different. Something more personal. A story for older readers.
I sighed. Maybe I should stick to writing children's books. I always got a smile from seeing Anis's little face light up when I read to her about the silly cute penguin who wanted to fly.
I missed her. My little penguin. But I needed this break. I needed some time to myself, to recharge my creative batteries. But it wasn't working. The silence of the house was deafening, a constant reminder of her absence.
