justwrite 10 november

and when she woke up she found the note she had left herself, scrawled in blue pen across an open notebook: SO LONG---
Unlike many other night-dashed notes, she remembered the meaning of this one. It was a directive, a command to be followed, all the more important because she asked it of herself.
She closed her eyes, unwilling to begin.
Before long, however, the images flooded her mind, the items to be listed.
She opened her eyes, rolled out of bed. Always stepped onto the floor on the right side of the bed. Always opened the curtain before anything else. Looked out. Remains of rain.
Physically, it would be easy to sit down at her desk and begin. She just wasn’t ready. Not quite.
Stretches, breakfast. A load of laundry in and whirring. Straightening up the living room.
Hours passed this way, scattered into categories like Cleaning, Cooking, Washing Dishes. Each category more correctly titled Avoiding.
Nearly noon.
With a deep breath, she sat down at the table in the living room, stared hard out the window, then began to write.