One of the bitter-as-burnt-toast kind of things in the world is when a writer's (1) book remains empty for a time where even their clock ceased
ticking."
{She used to write in the way flowers needed a cold snap before they could bloom.}
Footnote (1) The kind of writer that wrote to give her lungs a break.
Hello you, you & you! I have missed writing on friday nights.
I hope you are all well.
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