This is not a story

A Story by Siv

ramblings of a women

It is a shame that I would have to sneak around like a thief in the night to open my computer and write. These old floor boards creak and crack like a dead mans soul. I could live anywhere in the world but the words would always come in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep. Even then the echo of silence can be so loud that I am frightened it would awake everyone in the house. The night would then no longer be mine alone, and I would then return to be somebody's someone. Mother, daughter, sister, wife, lover, girlfriend....ect...Silence and words in the middle of the night, these are mine alone even though I feel like a thief, stealing something that is already mine. For some life might be like a box of chocolate, but for me it is more like tomato soup.You can go through life with a fork and knife, or a spoon. You can either cut was has been served or spoon it out.