week of mar 25th: try writing in the second person. address your audience and sit with them as you tell your story. see how this direct connection affects how you write.
the air outside smells fresh and damp through the mesh window of the storm door. the sound of rain hitting the grass and concrete and brick and deep puddles in the untamed moss garden is louder and more complete than you've ever heard.
honestly, it'd be a crime not to sit with it a while.
the porch bench isn't wet, thankfully. the air is cool but not cold, the tea in your hand is hot but not scalding. and your fuzzy sweater, well - you can never go wrong with a cozy sweater.
it's a long handful of minutes just taking it all in, and taking it in again. the sound of the rain - you've really never heard it so clearly before - the cool air on your hands and face, the taste of the tea and the feeling of it warming you inside.
later today you have responsibilities. obligations. duties to fulfill and chores to be done.
but this moment - this absolutely stunning rainy morning - this is yours to drink in.