The beauty in the little things Angel-Clare Linton, March 1, 2024February 28, 2024 Clouds cover the sun. Wind whispers in the sky. I sit on my couch in the living room with the TV on as a distraction. My laptop with faded keys (even though I only got it in November). Scrivener and Photoshop are opened. My fingers rest on the keys of the cold keyboard—a stark contrast from my previous laptop. Apart from the sounds of the TV, the house is eerily quiet. Cars are parked in the parking lots, consuming the house. The streets are empty like a highway at 3 a.m. I switch to listening to music—the instruments and vocals blast through the house’s emptiness. The sun begins peering through the closed shutters. My computer stares back at me, an unconscious frown playing on my forehead. (Thankfully, my reflection doesn’t stare back at me.) Oversized clothing surrounds my body. Letters spurt out from my brain and onto my computer screen. For the day, I pretend writing is my job. Related Poetry