I spend hours watching things fall from the sky. They inspire me when my canvas doesn’t.
The sun starts somewhere up there and eventually races down to collide with the ground in front of my basement’s west-facing window. High heels and sneakers do the same; hitting the ground in an intertwined mess before shattering to go their separate ways.
A flower box bleeds dirt.
Today, I won’t create something out of the rain.
Partly because the butter of the popcorn makes it hard to hold a brush.
The computer screen called for it and the items coming after don’t disappoint.
This is my story for this prompt.