It was a recurring malady.
She felt again the great compulsion that had taken her so many times before. Thoughts and words in her head, bursting to get out. She didn’t always hear exactly what they were saying. It was all consuming. It went with her to school, jumping and dangling all through her classes. It accompanied her home and into her room. It whirled around while she changed and spun even faster when she sat down at her little desk.
She started to scribble.
As the words went down on paper, a great relief swept over her.
Finally, she lowered her pen.
Another story was born.