Feeding the monster

I was writing in bed on Sunday, still not quite recovered from the encephalitis. The demon was at work though and I just had to let it all out.

God knows if what I’ve written will make any sense. I’m a writer, deep insecurities are part of  the job.

Will this story be any good?

Time will tell as I put all the pieces together.

My husband provided tea, coffee and snacks.

“Feeding the monster, she forgets!”


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