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02 November 2011 @ 03:10 pm
 
I'm around and about for the day, so I thought I'd leave this here.



"Quiet day?" a patron inquired over a steaming mug.

The barkeep pressed her wand to her hair, spelling it up in a tidy bun. She nodded and gestured to a sign by the front, reading 'Novel Writing Any Writing'.

"It's a writing day," she further explained, "or there's hope for it. Got a few in from The Shire, too, after I mentioned it there."

Music played in the background, but the most prominent sounds were the grumblings and mumblings of a gaggle of writers working to prove their title. One in a corner successfully wrote; another nearby scratched her head, too long for a real itch to be irking her; a few glared at blank parchments and still quills, as if they aught to burn up for their insubordination; one poor soul in the back kept dropping his forehead on the table: thud. thud. thud.

The barkeep removed a parchment of her own and drew a quill from her wand tip.

"What's the sound of writers writing?" she murmured to her patron, then bent down to listen intently to the overwhelming sound of Nothing Happening--not the scurry of a quill over parchment, certainly--until the background noise of groans and sighs drew her attention away again. "So yes, quiet day. Merryment in the evening, mayhaps, if we've all written for a solid ten minutes."

"I see," the patron responded. She had clearly received more than she had desired.

"Do you have a tale to tell? Write it here--Kiwi's Keep may help."



I'll probably be here all day, trying to write something. Feel free to join in. (: