Movement

stockvault-boat-in-the-morning124785This is life.

Me in a dinghy, half-written Cozy and sporadically fuzzy muse at my side. We bob up and down but never really move from our pre-destined spot. While the world powers by us, anxiety and panic has kept us anchored to the ocean floor…

However, the anchor’s shape now changes.

No longer sharp and protruding, snagging to ever rock, the anchor flattens and smooths. It is capable of being dragged, of being moved.

Deplin has been added to my medicinal regiment… and it has actually helped.

This is cause for celebration, for bragging, for this post.

Yes, this is life, and it finally moves!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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