The decorators have taken over the asylum so I've locked myself away in the bedroom. A day spent at the PC is never wasted though. I went over 'The Light Knoght Returns' yet again, changing this, that and the other. And the wordcount has fallen another 300 words. Hell, at this rate it's gonna be a piece of flash fiction I present to the Critters writers' workshop.
I've also had my first creative block . . . attempting to write a Father of the Bride speech for Dad. Sister Helen is getting married in a couple of weeks, and Dad has asked me to write his speech. I've been given strict instructions: no saucy jokes, no soppy bits, and no robots, zombies or werewolves!
"But Dad..."
I said, no."
He's being unreasonable.
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