Fountain pen.

I've been wanting a really nice fountain pen for ages. I've got one, with purple ink. I've popped in the cartridge and off I go............

Oh. I have nothing to write. Nothing real, no real letters, letters from the heart.

I spend all day making notes, occasionally writing a letter to the kids school, write a birthday card, texting and commenting.

The written word is definately still here. It might be in the form of l8r, instead of later, or tbh instead of 'to be honest'. But, we still do write.

The problem with the written word is, it can be perceived so very wrongly.

So, what shall I write?







Apologies for the pic, it's not very good. Oh, and for those who didn't see yesterday. My monkeyfeet are shed. Tonight Michael, I'm gonna be:



SARAH CARR!