Before I read the last sentence I thought this was a description of what its like to create art. Well written.
This story, Like a lot of mine, does not really lend itself to sequels or prequels too well. I suppose that’s one aspect of Ficly that doesn’t always work out.
A sequel could be another analogy to how you feel when you say “I love you”. This was just one knowing the other person would say it back. What’s one where they don’t?
Andrew Sheffield
Barefoot Contessa
Barefoot Contessa
The Fantastic Mister Fish