*Micah*
Within my study, sitting at my desk, I scribble frantically on a piece of paper, yup I am one of those weirdos writing the first draft by hand, before editing it on the computer, while trying not to envision Isadora peering at me through the narrow opening in her doorway, looking so delectable, so vulnerable, so beautiful with her blond hair cascading around her.
‘I don’t dislike you’.
Better if she did.
Setting aside my pen, I read what I have written, key phrases jumping out at me. Moon-kissed tresses. Sapphire eyes. Heart-shaped face. I realize I have described Isadora, made her the protagonist in this story of murder and revenge that I have only recently begun writing.
Bloody hell. I spread my palm, splay my fingers over the words, gather up the paper, ball it tightly bet
