Years later, she did something she never thought she’d be able to do again. She sat down in front of the computer, open up the folder where all her unifinished stories sit; collecting dust, never to see the light of day. She took a deep breath, and cliked on one. The first one that appeared on top of the list.

One that she’d worked out the plot for when it came to her in a dream. A nightmarish world – a world devoid of hope, but also about finding that hope again. With a deep breath, she thinks maybe….

Maybe she can write again; pick up the pen metaphorically.