Possibly Stephen
Jul 19th, 2018 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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The writer stared at the page, expecting inspiration to spring at him from the fibres of the old-style reporters’ notebook.
Words trickled…gushed…cascaded. He ripped the page out, rolled it into a tight ball and chucked. It bounced off the bin, thran as the incorporeal muse.
“What was wrong with that?” she asked, form flickering in the draught.
“It was in Latin,” he spat.
She giggled a bit. “Sorry, my mind wandered. I know, how about–?”
“Look, could you put on something less filmy. It’s distracting. Tired, not dead.”
“Tweeds okay?”
He nodded, and wrote Misery.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
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