A Whisper from the Dark

Despite the popular theory that due to my sacrilegious experiments of the past two weeks I have been struck into ash by a freak sunny day lightning bolt, I am alive.

Barely.

I'm locked in this office with a few slices of bread and a tin cup full of water. I'm trapped by a self-imposed 3750 word/day goal, that must be fulfilled or I'll never make my deadline. My wife is my new supervisor. There's an accountability chart on the door. I have minimal access to wi-fi!

Hellish, I tell you.

Why must I slack off. Will someone please give me discipline for Christmas and not of the Mistress Dementia thank you for that heel in my groin may I have another variety?

Thank you, and goodnight.

Comments

Jaye Wells said…
"There's an accountability chart on the door."

Hey, my son used to have one of those when he was two! Of course his was to teach him how to use the toilet. Do you also get gold stars and M&Ms?
Mark said…
Nope, but I get to go boom boom when I write 500 words.

Should I renegotiate?
Jaye Wells said…
When in doubt, always go for the M&Ms.