bugger this for a lark

 Dear piece of fanfiction,

You do not want to be written. I see you there on the taskbar, mocking me. I have banged my head against you long enough. It is time to admit defeat. The magic has gone, the spark has died and it's time to just let. You. Go. An extra ten words a day is no way to live my dear untitled.doc and I think we both know that. 

Love, 

Your (ex) author. 

Firing On No Cylinders

 Soooooo...I had two hours of sleep last night. I don't even know. I think I might be dreaming right now. 



Henry, so fierce babe. You work it.