So what does the rewrite mean? Well…
I woke up dead, the colour removed from the world.
Instead of having a slow and relaxing November, it will be a very busy month – in which I may just write 50 000 words in any case…
The exorcist arrived two hours late.
“You know how they are,” Josephine said, wiping her hands on her apron. “And they don’t care about what happens in the small towns.”
I stopped to smell the flower at the roadside. Its petals dripped red upon the ashen-grey ground. My back strained beneath my book-filled backpack. Them I dared not leave behind. I followed the painted flowers to a ramshackle building. There… Read More ›
“We are always falling in love or quarrelling, looking for jobs or fearing to lose them, getting ill and recovering, following public affairs. If we let ourselves, we shall always be waiting for some distraction or other to end before… Read More ›