The challenge is met once again, and the battle commences. The blank page is pitted against the hideously dim mind of the seasoned writer of silliness, where only one can win. Yes, there may be a pyrrhic draw, where the results are unsatisfactory to both sides, but that's not what we aim for.
There is a time for planning and a time for improvised nonsense. This is clearly going to be one of the latter, even as a 'Literary Reflections' continues in development. It will need more than two completed books to be satisfying, though! Yes, we must improvise, improvise! It's not too difficult as long as you don't stop for anything. You must type, type and type some more and keep up the rhythm.
I could write about the second season opener of 'Alias', currently playing to the left, but the talk about that show will be for another day. Oh, a pause. A dreadful pause. There can be no pauses. Let's write about something else, not the weather. Never the weather. No-one in the future is ever going to need to know that gales were running and drizzle was falling in Pontyates on the evening of the twentieth of August in 2016.
Oh yes, the reunion, the ten year mini-reunion of the Aberystwyth University mathematics class of 2006! It went surprisingly well, and with only six classmates and hangers-on it was a surprisingly compact picnic and dinner. There was even a possible convert to the card game 'Fluxx', that magnificent time waster. (Note: Version 4 of 'Fluxx' is the best. Creepers for the win!) We can only hope... Also, in recent news, Tess the venerable Old English sheepdog continues to recuperate speedily after her stroke. She can now get up the steps to the garden unaided once again. I suspect her of being an alien imposter, but only the Clomp knows for sure.
That's enough for now. Enough words spun out of nothing, woven in thoughts barely distinct from the random neuronal firings of normal existence. More will follow another day, and it will be a story...
O.
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