When time permits

Previously

…She stood up, brushed the grass from her trousers, and began the walk home. The acorn felt heavy in her pocket, heavier than it should have been, and she kept her hand on it, as if afraid it might escape. For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than dread. She felt curiosity. And that, she decided, was a start. When she reached her desk, she didn’t sit down. She didn’t pick up her pen. She simply stats looked at the blank page, then at the acorn, and smiled. The page spoke word by word poetry. 'A thought too now last ,a thought to ponder Gaze in owe so powerful gains splendour