I can't write a new short story because I've mislaid my imagination somewhere. I've looked in the usual places; under the cushions of the settee; under the driver's seat in the car; in the dirty laundry basket; in the paper shredder; under the bed; under the kitchen sink; in my 'man drawer' in the cellar and many more places.
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Saturday, 8 December 2012
Lost imagination
I can't write a new short story because I've mislaid my imagination somewhere. I've looked in the usual places; under the cushions of the settee; under the driver's seat in the car; in the dirty laundry basket; in the paper shredder; under the bed; under the kitchen sink; in my 'man drawer' in the cellar and many more places.
1 comment:
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I'm sorry to hear of your loss.
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine what it must be like to lose one's imagination.