Where I am at right now it is raining and the sky is thick with clouds. Write about that kind of weather, or write about the weather outside your window.
Today in California
I moved to California because I couldn’t survive one more Boston winter. So much snow I couldn’t open my front door. Imagine having more than demons keeping you locked inside.
Today it is raining in California. My mood rocks slowly like a cradle, the wind deciding which direction I’m headed. Melancholy is a toxic friendship.
I crave sunshine. It dictates my head space. I see my reflection in muddy puddles; perhaps I’m still stuck in the mud, but I’m slowly pulling myself out.