I’ve written this entire thing without using the first letter–it was both difficult and simple, depending on my word choices for my sentences. I hope everyone enjoys this entry!
Dirty hovels. No life inside. Terrible torture. Fervent questioning. The dim horizon filled with emptiness. To see without, while nursing misery within—the cruelest of the consequences. Words to not come, the sentences incomplete, the struggle more true with every exceeded moment. How do you cope with those demented little thoughts trying to corrupt your struggling mind? You don’t. You longingly enfold the foolishness into your soul—you love it, nurture it; you whisper your whys to the empty, unfeeling, sky. But don’t fret. This experiment will only endure for minutes, not lifetimes. Following this exercise, the first letter returns.