---
A white screen.
The cursor blinked.
Fast.
Too fast to follow.
I wasn't watching it.
My fingers moved first.
Typing.
Without pause.
Sentences appeared one by one.
Without thinking.
Just pouring out.
---
The sequence was already there.
In my head.
If I stopped, it would vanish.
I didn't stop.
A cramped desk.
The computer.
Its fan whirring loudly.
The air in the room was warm.
A little stuffy.
To the side—
a coffee mug.
Empty.
Dregs at the bottom.
Cold.
The story moved.
Faster than usual.
Usually, I would stop.
Evaluate.
Revise.
Not now.
There was no room for that.
If I interrupted it, the flow would break.
I let it run.
One scene finished.
Straight to the next.
No rereading.
No checking.
Inefficient.
But necessary.
---
The priority right now:
pouring the idea out quickly.
Not accuracy.
My eyes felt heavy.
It didn't matter.
My body protested.
Irrelevant.
I ignored it.
The cursor stopped.
Not because I was done.
Because of a pause.
