Like a Doom Unsaid
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     There would be no distractions or little diversions to turn his attention away from his work today.  He would finish his great work, the book he had been striving to complete for almost eighteen months.  This was his one goal for the day and he intended to reach it before the sun went down.

            The kettle sang, signaling that the water was ready to pour over the last of the Bancha Leaf tea that was waiting to be brewed in the tea pot.  It had been his favorite go-to, especially when he was writing.  As he poured the steaming tea into his mug, he reached for the honey jar and stirred a teaspoon to sweeten.  While he idly stirred the liquid, his eyes were drawn to the window.  It was another windless day. ...

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