'Will you use a taxi when I die?'
Harry knew this was a test, but not what sort of test. The ones that started with screams, but ended in bedroom squeals were...manageable.
'Er...why?'
'Because you're a cheapskate.'
Harry desperately checked for forgotten anniversaries. Why can't women speak plain?
Flash Fiction learning that the heart of writing is imagination + craft + editing.
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Whenever was it about the words?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)