We’re the fish, glad to be connected.
Viewing entries in
writing
He pointed at the blurb on the inside flap.
Look no further than your slick magazine.
If I’m not mistaken, I had just been handed my diploma.
Well done, anonymous denizen of lit
His daughter was five when he started writing the book. Now she is nine.
Conscientiousness advises this.
Funny how circular life can be.
Or, not.
I plan to take full advantage of the pupal stage of my writing.