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After having exhausted my one and a half hour of inspiration while I was trying to fall asleep last night, I felt very uninspired this morning. So I went out for a walk.
There wasn't much wind, for a change, and not a lot of clouds in the sky. The walk did me good. I saw a bunch of horses, birds on lakes, reindeer moss ripe for the picking, sun and the moon in the sky at the same time (the sun takes a hike in the winter, but the moon never leaves), paw prints in the black sand, fields and fields of moss-covered lava with long, wide cracks splitting the earth, and the ever-unruly sea clashing against black rocks. When I bent down to pick up a plump berry that was oddly still there after all the harsh weather and cold lately, a whole scene and a plot device flashed through my mind.
Inspired? Yes, but for the wrong story. I guess I'll have to sludge through the short story today, but I have a feeling I'll have to put my third manuscript of the Boston Boys series until I've finished writing that viking story of mine.
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