Cortana Whit

Poems for the Passing

Halfway to the paper, Kate's pen paused. It sat poised on a barrier of resistance only she could sense. She had been considering her options for the last few weeks, not that it had helped. Even now, right down to this last moment, she still wasn't sure what she would choose. Sign the contract. Don't sign the contract. Sign it. Don't sign. It seemed each heartbeat sent her thoughts skittering back the way they had come, like a tennis match in her mind.