Writing.

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“Are you done yet, Mom? You said we will watch a movie together.”

Her son is sitting, waiting patiently.

Her face is aglow from the light of the computer.

“One minute. I just need to edit this. Make sure it makes sense. I’ve got to include all the important details,” she responds, not looking his way. “It really has surprised me how much time it takes to write one piece,” she adds, to herself.

But, then.

Finally.

She’s finished.

“Movie?” she questions.

“Yeah. But hold on. I am working on something,”  her son answers.

His eyes are focused on his laptop’s screen.

“Okay. Let me know when you are ready.”

She looks back at the desktop computer.

Opens her post.

Re-reads it for any errors.

Makes sure it’s coherent.

She finds a flaw.

Or two.

A misspelled word.

A sentence that needs a pronoun.

“Mom? I’m ready,” her son says.

“One minute. I just need to edit this,” she mumbles.

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