The Writer looks back and forth between his dog and a flickering LED candle. One, organic; the other, a simulation; neither act as inspiration. Biting his bottom lip, The Writer stands up, placing his laptop on the ottoman where his feet once were, and makes way to the kitchen.
#31: The Writer sucks tonight.
#31: The Writer sucks tonight.
#31: The Writer sucks tonight.
The Writer looks back and forth between his dog and a flickering LED candle. One, organic; the other, a simulation; neither act as inspiration. Biting his bottom lip, The Writer stands up, placing his laptop on the ottoman where his feet once were, and makes way to the kitchen.