Girl in a bubble

I've been struggling with a piece of writing this week, having a tough time wrangling a larger topic into the space allotted to it. I keep reminding myself that I don't have to cover it all, it's about starting a good conversation. This morning I got up and dressed, sat to pray, then headed downstairs to make tea and grab a yogurt before I dove in to the writing. I stood at the top of the stairs, only to discover that I was enclosed. The 6 month long house renovation project is nearing an end, and the painters are painting downstairs (the new wall, the old wall with a new section, the old walls...and while we're at it, the living room). They had neatly taped up plastic to seal off the living room from the stairs and from the dining room. I had visions of the boy in the bubble.

My first thought? This is one way to deal with writer's block. Seal the writer in until she produces her word count for the day!

(The lovely painter guys held up the plastic, like a queen's train, and let me out long enough to get my tea. At which point I finally managed to put my seat in the chair and get myself written from the frame into the meat of the thing. So I guess it worked?)