The least fun I've had in a good long while
The writers' workshop. I did it. I went. I was squirming more than any worm. The leader wasn't too happy that I didn't want to read aloud my pieces. Squirm. Squirm. Squirm. But I did it. I went. I am no writer. The others' pieces were all incredibly deep and intellectual and big-worded and big-sentenced. My thoughts, words and sentences were so simple in comparison. I kept crying, to boot. Not a fun morning.
On the walk home, I saw Main Street blocked off. It heard like some sort of revolution was happening. I need to get Mr. Neighbor to crawl out of his hole and escort me up there. Not that he could protect me from any combatants, but it's nice to have someone to hide behind if bats or clubs start flying.
On the walk home, I saw Main Street blocked off. It heard like some sort of revolution was happening. I need to get Mr. Neighbor to crawl out of his hole and escort me up there. Not that he could protect me from any combatants, but it's nice to have someone to hide behind if bats or clubs start flying.