In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Sincerest Form of Flattery.”

Publish a post in the style of a favorite author/blogger or photographer.

i could hear people talking from where i sat on the bed. it was a day in July that felt like fall. i hadn’t had a hard day but was tired. i had heard too much talk and was tired of listening. i reached for my glass of water only to find that it was out of reach.

i did not know where my roommate was. she had gone out before i arrived home. hopefully she would be bringing ice cream back with her return.

somewhere the trees bent in the wind. you could here them moving. the curtain on the window was blowing. the breeze was nice. i wondered how many evenings i had sat just like this. writing.