It kills me not to write. I can barely sleep at night thinking, always thinking about that first word that tumbles out of my early morning thoughts, spilling on the page like the hot tea I always over pour.

Words satisfy me and when they run dry I run my fingers across the page remembering the joyful moment when we all met and became friends.

I write because I can’t think of anything else I would rather do or be.

victoria Dillard

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