A long sigh of mild protest

Whilst is should, by all accounts, have been a long howl of outraged indignation, the Primary Character was far too mild for that. In fact she was best described as insipid, and presumably drank very weak peppermint tea whilst being too dull to even bother solving brutal murders thanks to sheer nosiness.

And so when the barbarian invaders rode up into town and began slaughtering, she just gave a sigh as her favourite family members were dismembered, and the crockery set she’d waited two decades to inherit was smashed in single file on the head of the very elderly or she had been very fond of, even with the frequent doubt as to whether it was still alive. As the feeble mewls of protest had stopped some point between the teapot and the large tureen, it presumably had still been and was no longer.

Once finished, the barbarians had looked for anything else other than the cat, but out of sheer blandness – and a tendency to appear as the personification of beige – the Primary Character went unnoticed, and so they went elsewhere to sow destruction. As they set off the Primary Character tutted, looked sadly at the wreckage, and, gave a long sigh of mild protest which was totally ignored by the last departing horse.

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Sleepy

There’s a place where the mind sometimes wanders when it wishes to switch off and it’s owner has different ideas. This place, which for want of a better word we shall call ‘Sleepy’, is one of wonder and surprise; a place where ones openness to the surreal and absurd is enhanced and where driving is a huge no-no. In short, it is the perfect place to be writing from.

It is hard to procrastinate when you are not really aware that you are writing, and it is harder still to be critical of what you are only vaguely aware of. This means that Sleepy is the ideal place for an author to be, and one to which we wish we can travel at will.

But alas! life is rarely that simple. All too often the ruthlessness of coffee, sheer exhaustion or plain bad luck comes in between our consciousness entering this magical state. And then, with a sigh or a snore, we go onwards without committing anything to paper, and can but hope for another…