The Poem's Deadline
By Craig Wilson
The smoke clears. I find myself in my bedroom.
It is not unusual. I usually work from my room.
I received a phone call. It turns out that it's a friend.
My friend reminds me that my poem is due soon.
I am in a panic. I hung up. I set up my table and laptop.
I get cracking. I need to finish this poem immediately.
I suffer from severe writer's block. I write anything.
I proofread the poem. I email it. I slump into my chair.
My phone's alarm goes off, and I leave this dream.
The End
The above story is a loose adaptation of a dream I had. If there is anything you would like to ask, feel free to leave a comment, and thank you for reading.
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