He’d tapped the pen for the last time.
He realised he wasn’t going to get any writing done. Everything seemed to be against him. The storm had caused a power cut so he had no computer and couldn’t type. The light was fading, so he couldn’t see clearly.
He looked at his hand, fingers covered with a sticky blue liquid. The same liquid that was smeared all over the piece of paper he was using to scribble down ideas; the same liquid that was on the cuff of his sleeve… around his mouth… all over the – as yet – unwritten birthday card.
Gerald looked at his pen, and let out a sigh.
His favourite pen, chewed, broken, and now useless.
In frustration, he screwed up the piece of paper, and threw it – and the pen – into the rubbish bin.
“Someone’s got it in for me” he thought aloud…
This is the next part in my Legendary Circles storyline.
The previous part can be found here.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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