If Things Don't Go Right, Go Left... Then, Go Write Again.

I am not left-handed, and that's the first thing you need to know. 

Recently, in the midst of both university and personal deadlines, I was compelled to stay up writing, later than usual.  However, as I am often awake far into the evening, I accepted the opportunity with a great bit of anticipation; and, settling back into the solitude of night and the sound of a pouring rain, began my task. 

Unfortunately, earlier in the week, I had managed to injure my right hand and had been forced to transfer all tasks to the left one (not notorious for its accuracy, might I add).  For awhile, all things continued in a fairly normal way—or, as "normal" as things can be, when you're forced to type on a screen with only five fingers.  Then, just as the body of the paper was beginning to assume a pleasing form, the first of a series of unfortunate events occurred, as my left thumb began to bleed.

Temporarily leaving my tablet, I attended to this predicament (applying lotion and placing a glove over the hand,) before hurriedly returning to my work.  Upon my attempts to type, however, the fabric of the glove impeded a connection with the tablet's screen.  With much frustration, I traversed across the house (unintentionally waking all of its residents) to locate a stylus, which would work with the device. 

With the stylus now serving as my fingers (albeit quite unreliably,) a sizeable amount of time passed, as sentences were plotted, erased, and the definitions of words researched.  Nevertheless, my problems were not yet over—as the allergic rash, now forming on the same hand, clearly demonstrated.  Unsurprised by the new impediment, I deserted my writing, once more, to seek anti-allergy pills.  

Having taken the necessary medicine, I cautiously resumed my paper—penning words, as slowly as the antiquated stylus dictated, with my still-itching left hand, which was threatening to bleed, again.  Shortly after, a medication-induced exhaustion ensued, which I temporarily fought, before giving in to the loud beckoning of my lonely pillows and blankets. 

Moral of the story: Persistence is key... I think.  I'm still not sure, but I'll get back to you, as soon as I can fix a few things, which have just gone wrong. 

Factum Est,

Z.S. Walker

Welcome!

Why, hello there, and a warmest of welcomes to my website/blog!  I am exceedingly happy that you have decided to explore my little corner of the interwebs (that's a thing, right?), and hope that you enjoy the content on each of its pages.  While this page will be maintained as a blog of my often whimsical and humorous life adventures as an introverted poet and university student, the remainder of the site's pages contain a rotating selection of my short stories, poetry, devotional works, and some experimental photography.  Be sure to check back often for the addition of new works and feel free to contact me through the online form listed under the tab "Contact," with any questions, comments, concerns, or absurd notions.  (I especially enjoy the latter of the four.) 

Until we virtually meet again, may you read often and your pages never become creased.

Factum Est,

Z.S. Walker