“I never run out of words,” she replied, a small knowing smile tugging at the corner of her perfect pink lips.

“Must be nice,” The words came out clipped. A speedy clicking and clacking of her fingers against the keyboard announced that she had returned, almost impatiently to her typing. A potpourri of anger and sadness welled inside of me, and to calm myself, I shifted my gaze from the empty word document on my laptop to the blank sky outside. Perhaps, evenings where clouds and stars and splashes of colours were no where to be found from the sky, was nature’s reminder that my word doc was not the only thing blank for want of inspiration.