She took her mother’s old mirror from the top of its mahogany dresser, blowing off the scraps of crumbling wallpaper, and swiped a scone from the cook’s first batch of the day. The cook followed her with a lazy swipe of her flowery handtowel, but after three years had finally given up on scolding her...
Here we are, on the verge of Nanowrimo month. Last week I was nervous about all the spare time I wouldn't have, but now it's starting to hit--the Nano High. I'm hyped!
You may or may not have noticed that Google AdSense finally bought my soul after weeks of me trying to sell it. Apologies from Phantasmagorium if the old girl's a little rough around the edges while everything gets figured out.
I understand I ought to be outcast from the blogging community for neglecting Phantasmagorium, but I was on the road. So I'll just have you write about outcasts instead!