I scribbled the following for this week's Five-Sentence Fiction prompt, Limitless.
Magazine Alley, as she thought of it, was now mid-thigh deep and bordered by heaps of clothes which, when they had been piled there, had been clean. The table beside her best chair was covered in layers of useful things: scraps of paper with notes and recipes, stalled knitting projects, forgotten cups of tea with fuzzy tea bags attached, empty yogurt containers, and bits of fabric. The house, being so full, was quiet and comforting--a perfect setting for creativity. Raw material for making art surrounded her, but she wandered, sometimes stumbling on an abandoned shoe or dog toy, trying to figure out where to begin. She sighed to herself, thinking for the millionth time, The possibilities are limitless.
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