Twelve Minutes
written by: Laine Monroe
2:10 A.M.
The time that I’m writing this, whatever this may be. I really have nothing to say, no one to cry about, or pour my heart on a blank page. Just stillness, something I haven’t had in a while. The pause after a whirlwind of emotions, the calm after weeks of chasing something fleeting.
Fleeting. Moments I crave to have, to experience and write about, to hold as a lesson or a page in my story. The feeling is in knowing that some moments don’t last forever, so you cling, hoping they’ll be the breath of fresh air you were looking for.
But perhaps all ‘good’ things come to an end. Like everything else. The highs and lows.
So I wait again, return to my former self. The girl who waits until something happens, who buries herself in her imagination, hoping that one day, one of her fantasies will come true.
She’ll breathe and feel alive, daydream and create stories in her head, hoping that someone is reading her mind and realizes how much they want that story, too. To be a part of her world, and she a part of theirs. The stories they wrote their whole lives will become one: two souls, two books, one series.
But until then, she reads on her own.
2:22 A.M.
- Twelve Minutes - August 17, 2026
- The Flower I Reach For - March 6, 2026
- My Sun - November 20, 2025
