Fractured Writing

and five heart-shaped leaves of luck

I can’t write.

Can’t type on my laptop as quickly as racing thoughts flower in my head.
Right-handed for 5 decades, every word is spelled wrong, every line askew. The 2 hairline fractures in my wrist ache as I sit at the laptop in my sling.

Thick, heavy plaster bumps the wrong keys constantly.
Each sentence takes a laborious 6 minutes to put down.
My forearm hurts, but the pain of not writing cuts deeper.
I’m mourning not being able to put words down with ease.

Frustrated more from not writing and responding,
than being unable to turn a door handle,
undo a jar, put on a bra or floss my teeth.

It’s illegal for me to drive with my arm in a plaster cast.
I’ve read a book, bird-watched and seen 4 movies.
I’ve re-watched the last season of GOT.
All in 3 days. Yeah.