150

Fireflies hovered in the front yard blinking Morse code to their friends across the street.

149

Drops of perspiration lined her wrist, mimicked condensation on the back of her wristwatch.

148

The band stopped playing but the drumbeat continued in her mind, dictated her footsteps.

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147

The constant voices, the growing clutter made her body tense, her mind numb.

146

Look for the silver trumpet.

145

The muse lay undisturbed, sleeping on her bed of whispered inspirations.