Dorable looked over her shoulder, heading out the door. "I have clouds to trip among. Tress to dance around. I desire to read the poetry in the lights dancing on the sun-dappled waves. You just try and get something going. I'll be back."
And she danced off, laughing.
She pops in, I type madly while she's here, and then she wanders off, attracted to a blue butterfly or the song of a bird in the nearby woods.