Blink, Blink, Blink The cursor was insistent. Not rude, necessarily, but pertinent, a one dimensiona

Blink, Blink, Blink

The cursor was insistent. Not rude, necessarily, but pertinent, a one dimensional foot tap, keeping time like a metronome. The email was empty, but not for a lack of thought. Instead, each one was jostling to be the first on the page, and they’d somehow got jammed. 

She wasn’t sure where to begin, and so she hadn’t. Not yet, at least. The cursor blinked, arched an eyebrow, glanced at its watch. Yes, she knew, it had to be today. But why not tomorrow? What difference would a day make. She sighed.

Outside the world kept turning, as the world was wont to do. There was a man crossing the street in a gap between traffic, and another wandering down the pavement bopping his head to whatever he was listening to on his headphones. Between her teeth she rolled the slightly misshapen inner lip from when she’d fallen over as a child, chewed it absent mindedly, and then glanced down at the screen.

Hi would be too casual. Hello too impersonal. Dear wasn’t right, and just having his name made it sound like she was mad at him. She narrowed her eyes, as if furrowing her brow and concentrating really hard would make the words pop into her mind through sheer force of will. 

She crouched down on the carpet, and settled her hands against the keyboard. At least if she looked like she was writing maybe her fingers would just figure it out on their own, sans brain.

So,

Not really sure where to begin. Not really sure why I’m writing this email, actually, but I wanted it written.

That was terrible. She held down the delete key, erased the words completely. Her finger tapped against her lip, almost of its own accord, and she stared at that cursor again. Now it was looking rude. Now it was looking downright condescending. 

Maybe this was going to be harder than she thought.