Creative Cliché Snackpack

Women in low-lit rooms gazing out windows while sipping hot drinks with the sleeves of oversized wind-cheaters pulled down over their hands.

A wooden desk with a half-read book face-down. The blank page of a new notebook. A sharp pencil.

A frustrated storm-out after much-scrunched paper spews from a waste-paper-bin. But then: a revelation on a random walk.

For me, though, for me, the creative cliché snackpack gives me nothing nutritious at all. I read the ingredients on the wrapper and look out at the sea.