I have just wasted about five minutes or maybe less of my life reading what looked to be a good story. No doubt to the person who wrote it and many others it is but one man's fairy is another's brillo. Anyway, put it like this it is not the sort of thing I would send to my Mother in the post so that should say something. My mother is oh, 79 and sad that she seems to be one of the few survivors left of a dieing breed still with faculties, life and freedom and not to mention fully punctuated.
This is not a great deal of sense unless inspiration hits and the whole lot comes together by some strange stroke of luck.
However, when I read some Blogs it makes me think that perhaps my mother sending me off, kicking and screaming, to convent school then another and then grammar was not such a waste of time although the things learned along the way are maybe not appreciated in this present day and age. So maybe there is a time and a place for everyone and mine was obviously not to be this morning as the soap bar in the dish of the person who just wasted my time and made me feel sullied in the process. Huh, and my mother wonders why I do not read much, well if she had read that then she would have said, "Wash your mouth out with soap."
