Goal for now: tidy my apartment (have to keep it picked up or my creativity suffers), clean the litter box and get ready for sleep.
Excerpt from Bouquets and Motorbikes (soon to be released)
“I’m going into town now,” Grandfather announced an hour later, pulling on his heavy woolen coat. “Would the little girl like to come with me?”“May I, Grandmother?” Ysonde asked from where she sat at the table, hands clasped together and ready to cry from sheer boredom. Because she was being punished, she couldn’t color in her book, or play Old Maid with Grandfather; it meant sitting in silence and contemplating her sins. And she’d failed badly at that, considering that she couldn’t seem to pull her thoughts away from the broken down motorbike sitting in the shed.
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