vagueandpeculiar
If I chose not to write this I wouldn't have written anything all day, but instead I am here, in bed, with my tea wondering what to day about the words I am writing that could have been unwritten, had I chosen not to write them. There's a funny voice inside my head that tells me that doesn't really make sense. But I don't really care. It's down now.
I met a man who told me I should buy a typewriter and copy out my favourite script. I don't remember his name... Ok, I lied. I do, but he won't remember mine.
I don't believe in God, but SOMETHING is telling me I ought to listen to that man.
Her face was adorned with whiskers of silver. Her upper lip was the silver lining of the storm cloud that hung, ever present, fat with doom above her bed.
If I were a tumble weed, I'd tumble on to you. I'd mount your chest and weigh you down and wake you from your sleep. If I were a tumble weed, I'd tumble down the hill, I'd tumble as fast as I could until I broke apart.
I have already written today about pairs. But I am new to oneword so I didn't realise I'd have to write about pairs from a second time. Oh well, I suppose I'm being very witty, writing two posts... Here you go, oneword: A pair of posts. x V&P