Dysfunction 3
Sep 14th, 2016 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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“Some days you just can’t write,” he said aloud.
The citrus-scented candle was not impressed. The flame didn’t even react to his big sigh. It sat on the side table oozing atmosphere but no empathy.
“Oh yeah?” he snapped at it. “When you’re burnt out that’s the end of you. I prevail.”
Hiatus… Odd looks in his direction and muttered comments from bar patrons fused as he tried to blink his tired eyes clear. In the bright honey light, they became drones attending the queen behind the counter: alkaloid aromas their insectoid murmurs of my intrusion.
The page remained blank.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
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