The words on the page cried out, each demanding to stay. None wanted to be deleted or changed in anyway. That was not what was going to happen. Changes were coming.
A deft hand was required to cut only the fluff, the tough stuff had to remain. It was the heart of the story.
To show or tell, she had to decide. There was no need to show a blank countryside. The tale was shown, a few bits told, since everything need not be detailed.
The words were hers and she would force them to paint the scene in her head.
She carved and worked each line of words until she found nothing to change. Her eyes tired and the words speaking clearly, it was time to sleep and dream of more words yet unwritten.