It is common wisdom that reading a book is in fact good for you.
She sat back at her ridiculously large oak table. She took up her pen and spoke to the audience that populated her head – a population as large as her ego.
She spoke aloud to the dust that dance in the window’s sunshine.
‘Now admittedly some will leave the words “pissflaps” lingering on your tongue after the first 100 pages or indeed at the end of 400 but do not despair………”
The synapses were firing. The brain was engaged. She pictured herself outside herself. The young would bore of “Fortnite” and “Halo” and all that Ninja shite.
“CARRY ON.” she roared.
Sometimes writers must embrace their own madness to be happy in pointless pursuits. Hope is idea that expression can be it’s own reward. It’s a release when sex isn’t on the cards.
The ink flowed from her furry novelty pen.