She sat cross-legged on the floor, her mind wandering about as her fingers typed madly at the bedraggled laptop perched precariously on her knees.
The house was still, but not too still. It held the sort of silence that was cozy, like an old blanket, broken in and soft in all the right places. It was made up of simple things; the lulling drone of the air conditioner, the small rustling sounds of the cats prowling about, the nondescript hum of outside noises drifting in from under the door.
I’m going to start trying to challenge myself by writing more regularly. I haven’t been writing creatively at all and in the past, the best way I found to get past that “block” was to just start typing whatever popped into my head. Today’s tiny excerpt is totally unoriginal, as I just ended up describing myself writing right now, but hey! It’s something, right?