joy.

pixie haired joy stands behind the bar, she whips it slowly, and thinks of all the things she could write about, the dwarfs hiding beneath the great rock of asdor, living for centuries in steep, deep, horror. or patti johnson, the smart mouthed beautiful 18 year old who took the world of 1940`s by storm, or the confused 14 year old lesbian whos secretly in love with her lab partner.
or all the wounderful cliche`s hard to be written, because her pen has forsaken her, because desperate messieurs have become useless.
but there is a boy, and isnt there always a boy?
a dreamy , wonderful boy that makes her dull life, her imaginary friends that have been quite lately due to the embark of maturity, scream, pound against the walls of boredom and limitation, bring down restriction,take up the pen and draw ahaid what once was beyond difficult.
writting.