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Friday, August 13, 2010

THE BARISTA WHO DRANK TOO MUCH OF HIS OWN COFFEE

I hit the local coffee-shop this afternoon to write up some notes, only to be greeted by this:





The Barista Who Drank Too Much of His Own Coffee.

Everyone should come and live in Yeovil, if only for the day.



(Forgive the on-going self-indulgence, but sometimes you just need to holler out, especially when something's been so tightly internalised for a few days and you can't really show it to no one or talk about it or nuffink, but:)

Whoooo!! I'm done!

New story finished. A couple sentences that need fixin' - and a maybe-paragraph insersion if that don't end up over-egging it.

This is good, I think. I'm pleased with it. It reads pretty well, without sounding like anyone else. And I think - hope! - it hits the right spot without resorting to sentimentality.

Time to put it in the shoe-cupboard for a couple days and then tighten its laces slightly, ready for a walk to what will hopefully be its new home.

*slow exhalation of breath*

(back to writing about other people now)