Mellie wanted to accomplish fantastical feats of prose. She sat there staring at the large blank page of notebook paper, clicking her pen furiously to signal the flow of ideas from the recesses of her thoughts to the ink on her paper.
Thousands of ideas passed through her mind during these moments. Thoughts of high castles, mischievous clocks, and a nefarious pizza boy who stalked houses for tips came and left her in an instant.
She sighed and began cautiously. Each word seemed foolish when made concrete between the lines of notebook paper. Each thought given life cut to her sensibilities. How could she think such things? How could she make something so beautiful sound so stupid?
Mellie stopped suddenly unable to bear the strain of finding the perfect word.
She clicked her teeth and shook her head at the page. Utter nonsense.
She slammed her notebook shut and pressed her forehead on the table. These were such dreadful musings.