Tell me a story

Tell me a story
The Lakes

Debbie sat on the grey stone wall, lit a cigarette and looked into the sheep pen.
“It’s supposed to be art, right? All those leaves and twigs woven into a wreath and balanced on here? I don’t get it.”
Richard sighed. She was becoming a real pain. She’d done nothing but moan all week. The hills were too steep, the sun was too hot, the pubs were boring. Nothing was to her taste.

I decided to start publishing my short stories hosted on a wordpress.com blog. Am I bored this weekend? You think?!!!! Anyway it’s about time I started to do more with these stories than just leave them on my computer. I’m very impressed with the wordpress.com blog service. Slick and easy to use with several customisable themes.

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