I, Writer … #26
Things are going fairly swimmingly over here in Fulltimeness at present, although I did have a slight problem earlier this morning. It came in the form of these jibbering idiots …
There is nothing quite so annoying as a group of skeletons dancing around your bed at 4 am.
They duly informed me that their names were Winterbones, Sleepybones, Lazybones and … Dave. And collectively they were known as The Four Skeletons of Writerly Suffering. More like the Drab Four if you ask me.
And, as they danced, they absolutely insisted on speaking their truths. Their truths at 4 am.
Winterbones said … Come on you chaps. Keep dancing and let’s try going a bit faster. Try and work up a bit of a sweat.
Sleepybones said ... I could just lie down right here and fall into the arms of Morpheus. Dream the dreamless sleep and all that sort of thing.
Lazybones said ... I think we should stop right now. Let’s go somewhere quiet and practice our dance-steps. Ah, but first we should go down the library and read books about the history of armchairs and their place in the natural order of things. Then we could go for a nice leisurely game of billiards in … Istanbul.
Dave said … Look. I was just flat out on the pavement, minding my own business, when these three jokers came along, picked me up and made me dance.
And I said … nothing actually. I just rolled over, pulled the blankets up over my head and went back to sleep. In the morning they were gone. Well almost. I found Dave in the kitchen helping himself to yesterday’s leftovers …