There is an odd collection of things gathered where I
write. Sometimes they provide inspiration,
other times they are simply distractions.
All of this, of course, is influenced by the weather just outside the
window.
Perched atop the bookcase is a hawk. She surveys all that is fit to print. At the far end of the same bookcase sits a
scavenger crow, swooping down occasionally to pick at the dead punctuation, the
result, no doubt, of a run-on sentence.
I remember glancing at her yesterday as she was tugging at a
dangling participle. It was gross.
All I can say is that it remains important, the type and amount of light you are working under. For in the wrong light - a tube of sunscreen could easily be confused with a tube of toothpaste.
It's not funny.
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