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Writers block
November 2, 2018
There was a chorus of keyboards and pencils. One by one, everyone’s light bulb lit on. Everyone except mine. All I can do was stare at my blank page. I was as if my ideas were a river but my pen was a dam. My ideas never got across paper. I even tried swimming in the river and tried to search for stories but had no luck. I got out of the river and sat on shore awkwardly. It was then that my river dried.
© Anonymous
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This is a set piece about writers block.