The prompt sat in front of her like a curse. She didn’t want to write it, but she had writers block against her story for NaNoWriMo and it was only the first day. The writer had her word count already, but she wanted to write more. Tossing back her long, red hair she stared at the empty blog post.
“When was the last time you felt really, truly lonely?” she read the question out loud. “When was that?”
Her fingers began to flow over the keyboard, writing about elementary school when she sat by herself at lunch and then onward to when her roommate wasn’t home yet. Those were her loneliest times. The times when she felt like she was being pushed away from everyone she loved. Those were it.
The post wasn’t very long, only four or five paragraphs, but it was enough for her.
“Happy NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo, Sally,” she muttered, pushing publish.