Michelle Griep

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Freefall

When the muse hits and your writing flows, it's like...

...a groove you fall into, the sloping sides keeping you from veering too high around the curves, kind of like a bobsled track, lickety-split and dangerous.

...the sweet spot when you're teetering a chair on two legs instead of four, wavering on the thin line between flipping backward and cracking open your head, or slamming forward to an abrupt halt.


...driving down the highway with your hand out the window, your palm riding the crests of the wind, up and down, a rhythmic, soothing dance

...doing backward crossovers on ice skates, balancing on the outside edge, knees bent, body angling toward the ice, one false move and you'll crash, but for one brilliant moment in time, the ice is yours to command.

...freefalling, a rush, words you didn't know you knew flying from your fingertips.


...a rock skipping across the top of silver water, droplets spraying into the air, multiplying into a thousand diamonds


...the feeling you get when you put in the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle