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Goodnight, Popsicle Prince
1200 words and a revoltin' amount of cat-vacuuming behaviour in between, and at bloody last I've finished that interminable draft chapter that I've been telling from the viewpoint of my recycled Prince Charming.
In this cold late spring, there's something downright perverse about spending so much of my leisure in a story set smack-dab in the middle of winter. Brrr!
Sleepy tea and warm bed now. Brain frozen. Mind frozen. Thog tired.
In this cold late spring, there's something downright perverse about spending so much of my leisure in a story set smack-dab in the middle of winter. Brrr!
Sleepy tea and warm bed now. Brain frozen. Mind frozen. Thog tired.