Challenge Accepted

I survey the mess that is my creativity headquarters. Golden light filters in through the large windows and illuminate the ever present dust in the atmosphere. I sneeze painfully, and the action racks through my small frame: careless of the pain it causes. An old bed sheet is nailed across one corner of the room as a privacy screen. The floor under my feet is just plywood. No carpet has ever been installed.

I duck behind the bed sheet and sit down at my makeshift desk: packaging crates with a few misshapen boards laid across them. I stop to listen for the nosy people who so often intrude on these precious moments on my own. I pull from my bag an old package of flimsy paper and lay it out before me. I rub my pen in my hands to warm the ink and let the magic begin.