Cara: Where's your twitter, Clara?
Me: It's on the internet.
Cara: Thanks for your help.
I gave blood today and now I am feeling woozy and helpless with my blood gone. Obviously they left me a fair amount to work with, but I still feel a little like a slightly deflated balloon.
At least I didn't nearly pass out like last time I gave blood.
Now I'm at starbucks with Cara and we're writing, theoretically, but I'm just sitting here (definitely not staring at my phone like a sociopath) and trying to remember what it is that compels someone to set someone else's bed on fire.
I've decided, at last, that my fiction needs more arson. Nothing like open flame to keep things interesting.
Love always,
Clara
Me: It's on the internet.
Cara: Thanks for your help.
I gave blood today and now I am feeling woozy and helpless with my blood gone. Obviously they left me a fair amount to work with, but I still feel a little like a slightly deflated balloon.
At least I didn't nearly pass out like last time I gave blood.
Now I'm at starbucks with Cara and we're writing, theoretically, but I'm just sitting here (definitely not staring at my phone like a sociopath) and trying to remember what it is that compels someone to set someone else's bed on fire.
I've decided, at last, that my fiction needs more arson. Nothing like open flame to keep things interesting.
Love always,
Clara
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