Thursday, August 14, 2014

Starving Artist House

I started writing again, only this time, a different story came out.

He did not mind waiting; on the contrary, Margaret’s ill-timing had actually become something of a secret, giddy joy for Oliver, whose own chair was pressed up against the side of a large-paned glass window. It actually worked out quite well for him, for his fiancé’s frequent unpunctuality gave way to his favorite pastime in all the world: people watching. 

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Go with grace.