Kinda Like Love

His toes curled, yellow leaves rustling at the movement. Rough bark helping his back find its curve after hours hunched over the screen. His novel’s seven new pages had come at sacrifice. Each pound of the keys punches to the gut, slicing his confidence. Chasing a dream, one that left him battered and bruised. Other times, leaving him soaring higher than man is allowed to fly. The phone beside him would soon buzz, his love reaching out from Europe to wish sweet dreams to his author back home. So many tears, so many kisses. Love. Kinda like writing a book.