The dull patina of the ancient Underwood drew me in. I caressed a key, imagining the scent of Egyptian spice; cardamom and aniseed.
Thyme? A pun?
No bottle of bourbon present, but a glass of red wine would work.
I smiled to myself.
This time out of time, this bit of social distancing, would be exactly what I needed. I would use the sequester to my advantage and create The Great American Novel!
Paper in, enticing me with its blankness, the words began to flow. I could feel it, my masterpiece:
“It was a dark and stormy night.”
Hats off to that great novelist, Snoopy ;)
(Note – I’ve been away from Friday Fictioneers for a few weeks. Actually, from blogging in general… Glad to be back.)
Word count = 100