I am currently going through a phase of writing very sad, very nasty stories about couples - this is something of a seductive practice that I've picked up with a very curly haired Italian Man I met in Camden. Quite often they are stories or scripts that last no more than a paragraph, but not today.
Now that I've branched out from just writing little ditties about sex or love-making or underwear or seduction, and have moved into the darkened parts of mind in my writer's head, It's moved to love, heartbreak, blood and death.
Wanna read?
Now that I've branched out from just writing little ditties about sex or love-making or underwear or seduction, and have moved into the darkened parts of mind in my writer's head, It's moved to love, heartbreak, blood and death.
Wanna read?
