Writing

My eyes stared unblinkingly at the bright screen in front of me. I sat slouched over my computer, my body numb to the passage of time. My fingers typed furiously, releasing the story of heart onto the blank canvas on the screen. The bright, radiant sun outside grew dim as time continued forward. I continued to type feverishly into the night, the story in me begging to be let out. As the moon climbed the sky and replaced the sun, I finally looked up. In that short span of time, my body caught up with the passage of time. I was both mentally and physically exhausted. I looked down at the time and found that I had written well into the next morning. I barely had the energy to close my computer and climb into bed. As I fell asleep, I could still feel the story of my heart clawing at me, begging to be let out. When I slipped into unconsciousness, I was sitting in front of my computer, writing away as if I never stopped.