Drifting off to sleep, I dragged myself gingerly onto the iron-framed bed in room one. It was hell. I looked around the building one last time; I was scared. What kind of black-hearted bastard would do this? The man upstairs. I concluded that he thought he was god-like; that he had a god complex
October 15, 2014 at 5:45 pm
I’m pretty certain you have met the requirements of the slow writing task.
Consideration: how has this had an impact on your style of writing? Was this more of less of a challenge? Why? How might this substitute for a plan? Why?