Z O E

I'm Zoe.

Imagine the setting:

Listen to the soothing sound of a brass soprano saxophone as it casually dances in the background of a nearly empty cafe. The coffee that coats your tongue is fairly sweet with the French vanilla creamer and the bitterness peeks through once the warm liquid has exited down your esophagus.  As you type a chapter of a story you've been trying to perfect over the years, it's raining softly outside with an occasional grumble of thunder. The street lights burn, their light reflecting on the asphalt roads of the city. It was the perfect setting for inspiration and a steady flow of thinking.

God bless you if you sneezed. If not, that's okay.