My Room of One’s Own was once my daughter’s
bedroom – we’re not too nostalgic – our children moved out and we moved in.
This mess is over twenty years of freelance work and creative writing. There is
almost as much again outside the frame. The pile in the middle is where I
abandoned the sort/recycle/trash I was in the middle of a few years ago because
I got wildly busy again. The cobwebs on the witches’ hats are real. Okay. Time
to have another go. And I really must paint that ugly grey filing cabinet.
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