Here the author of online prose is situated in front of her laptop, the fingers of her aging hands still have the ability to type characters from the keyboard. Stretched out on her bed Guinevere, as her mother called her back in the days when she was a tot, lays propped up on pillows typing and in deep serious thought. "Might I wonder", she thinks to herself, "The computer makes it easier for me to correct my typographical errors". Both cats, domestic short hairs, have not joined her as of yet. They lay quietly in comfortable areas which they favor, leaving Guinevere alone for the time being.
Earlier in the day Siddhartha, the male cat and Princess, the female, insisted on special attention from Guinevere as she typed a different story. In Guinevere's mind, she figured, they shall return when their needs are pressing them to be fulfilled. Now may not be the right time for them.
Evening has set upon the landscape and the small amount of snow that arrived today will have melted by late morning. The dishes lay dirty in the sink, however they will be done at another time. Meals were prepared in simple fashion since writing was the priority task which needed consideration. Guinevere's search for her true self comes through in writing. Her cognitive functions become more sharper in this medium.
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