You know what?
It's bloody difficult to sit down and attempt to write a Gothic story set in 1925 rural England when your head is full of the urban warfare of the past few days.
Concentration is required, but how easy is it really to abstract from your head facts that genuinely preoccupy you? Or maybe I could introduce a gang of hooded ghosts who raid the kitchen of the manor house in search of some choice morsels?
I think therefore I write.
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