Mizz Erna

Okay it works. There's a story 'a brewing in my head. I see scenes. I hear lines. I witness characters acting out my story. But I know its not really my story. I'm a mere observer that cannot help but see life in a series of scenes and chapters. I just wrote some of it and I feel like crying. Isn't that weird. The tears are building up in my eyes as I recall that experience. Of writing. Of letting the story out. Of freeing it from my mind. We'll see where it takes me. I don't know how many characters yet. I don't know how many voices yet. Just thought you might want to know what I've been up to. Here's a very raw portion of what is pouring out:

Typical day. Get up at 5am. Pray. Take a shower. Drink coffee. Out the door. On the subway. Pray. Get to work 15 minutes early. Sweep. Vacuum. Mop. Clean the bathroom. Mondays, I wash the bedsheets. Skip a 30 minute lunch so I can leave at 4. Get on subway. Pray or read a book. Wednesdays i get groceries. Everyday, I buy a phonecard. Telebabad. $5 for 45 minutes! Prepare dinner. Rest up. Wash up. Eat dinner. Watch TV. Write in journal if I'm inspired to write. Call my husband and son. Cry. Sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.