Tuesday’s tale, 5/19/2015.

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Alright, still no real word on the book yet, and that’s driving me a bit crazy… but it’s time to focus up and write. So, as always, five minutes on the clock:

A bath followed by some Starbucks coffee and he opened the front door. His morning paper was there. His neighbor to the left Chris was there as well, looking for his paper, which had been thrown into his bushes. Chris had a history of antagonizing the paper boy.Odd that there was nothing at all about the robbery in it.

“Hey John.”

He waved and went back inside.

Odd that there was nothing at all about the robbery in the paper. There had been plenty of time to write the story up; he had seen reporters go with less. Had the story been quashed? Why would the owner of the item do such a thing?

And time, four minutes, 47 seconds. Sorry about that, I didn’t get much done at all. I could cheat perhaps, but well that would be cheating.

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