P#1 Blank

I stare.

It’s blank.

I stare some more.

Still blank.

My hand moves.

(Is it having a thought I don’t have?)

It stiffens. Stops.

False alarm.

I return to the glaring whiteness.

We stare at each other.

Minutes pass.

Blank.

Blank.

 

Still blank.

I think I can see the future! In three hours time . . . it will be . . .

Miraculously!

.

.

.

Still blank.

(Sigh . . . ) This damn page . . .

 

I sleep.

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