Twice … I’ve read the same question. It held my attention, if only for a short time between this and that. Then I read it again. That made three times. “Why do you write?” The question sought me, so I thought I’d ponder it.
Why did I write and what place does writing serve in my life?
The warm shower water ran over my chilly body; a thick frost blanketed the ground. Inspiration banged into my consciousness like it often does when the water washes away the tension of another night. My nights fluctuate between turbid dreams, prolonged periods of wakefulness and dark deep sleep.
Write about why you wrote Schicksal.