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Six minutes

Six minutes, what can I say in six minutes?

My mind goes blank.

I think frantically about the endless stretch of white room and paper and borrowed computer I will be touching for the rest of the day, and I feel a little sick.

I want to give thanks for these moments of respite I have experienced, for the kind barista who brought my food, for the kind lady I am sitting next to today and have never met till now.

I want to give thanks for the beauty of last night which was balmy warm, like a soft but breathable blanket wrapped around me as I walked to the pond.

I want to give thanks to the comforting dream I had which gave me peace where I have felt none.

I am thankful I have been writing lately. Just paragraphs or pages in the morning or evening. Not feeling impassioned or jagged, not saying anything surprising. Just calmly trying to impart beauty.

The six minutes is over.
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