A Writer's Life

By Awriterslife

Busy

This morning, from the moment he got up, Olivier was somehow on high-speed. I felt I was in one of those movies where one character is immobile and the rest of the scene is going on fast forward. I spent the day trying to somehow calm him, make him breathe a bit, slow down. Henri, by the end of the day, was exhausted because every time he somehow fell asleep, his brother woke him up.

Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.