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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: BEAT AROUND THE BUSH (05/25/17)

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• TITLE: Deadline | Previous Challenge Entry
  By Eneida Moscon
  06/01/17
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Deadline





The whistling winds shivering at the windows, like faraway waves kneading the shores of my

soul, lull me into fantasy and bliss. I dream



Then I write a



A word



Then I halt



I roll the pencil; I rub the rubber grip; I sense it between my fingers. I dot a period



I drop the rod and grab the mug



A hot Yerba Mate, tasting like fluid thin nectar. It slides slowly

through the curves of my tongue, and it dribbles down into my throat. I savor



The savor is in my tongue. My tongue, my thoughts, my tongue



I look at the white paper, it is empty



Only one word. I erase it



The Yerba is cold. Bitter



My tongue, my thoughts

I think of one hundred and fifty words



It is Thursday 10: 38 AM



I look through the window. I press the rod into the icy pond



I break it



Then I write



Then I breath

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