writing on my imagination

Time to catch up on the past seven days. It’s funny. The more I write, the happier I get. Yet, I let the habit lapse. But I’m starting to think it may be impossible to write daily. Especially if my preference is to write in the morning. That’s when my best writing takes place, but also conflicts with the best work done during this time.

And thus, I tap away this evening. Two hours and counting. In between making and drinking herbal tea, I stretch here and there.

The Mambo King plays a Rumba-Afro-Cuban music in the background. Someone is dancing to this upbeat, smiling and laughing as he spins and turns with and around the crowd. He smiles and gyrates his hips, inviting the crowd to join him in on the fun. His footsteps are light and fast. They shuffle to and fro, marking his space with the spin that pushes and pulls you in.

The onlookers can’t help but smile.

I just dreamed this up all in my head. It’s good to write down my imaginations.