Finally an afternoon's work I am satisfied with. The day didn't start well. I slept until one (which isn't that unusual) but felt strangely motivated after breakfast. Also, I haven't got any money and writing, if nothing else, is a cheap way to entertain yourself.
I think the new found motivation comes from the feeling of guilt that auntie Andree's recent visit instilled. She has always been really supportive of my hobby. Reading my work and offering criticism. But I had to tell her I had not really written anything (except ugly poems about infidelity) since Katy left me.
The Typography of Tears
2 years ago