A polka dotted poem

She sat by the window with her notebook open. Empty pages, waiting to be filled in. She remembered the polka dotted bra that she wore the night before. They'd both liked it. She could not find that bra this morning. It did not bother her at all.

She could not understand the reason for her sudden writer’s block. “Had I worn something else last night, things would have been different and I’d have my poem written by now” she wrote in her notebook and closed it.

Everything made sense with her notebook closed and windows open.