I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on the question of how I write, and I’ve come to this conclusion:
I write like I’m five years old. 643 more words
This interminable tea party is terribly boring.
We’ve moved round this table for years.
I’m not asleep, I’m listening and snoring.
I have excellent ears. 166 more words
Voices rattled outside of the teapot. She didn’t feel like moving.
She snuggled a little closer as the tempo of the conversation rose and fell, enjoying the warmth, enjoying the not-listening she was doing, enjoying the impossible thing that she didn’t have to look at or think about. 287 more words