Flash writing (20 minutes without a pause):
I woke with Life on Mars? in my head. It was a musical hangover from a dream I’d been having of Bowie singing live in a darkened club, one that I wrote about recently. It felt like I’d been there. I swear I could smell cigarettes on my clothes, taste the sting of a strong rum drink on my tongue, as well
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"The magic of being a writer is we an make everything up, rewrite our own history, create the better thing to say, the right way to look, or look away, kisses when we wanted them, running when it was the right thing to do, and that last conversation that never happened, we can write that out, too."
This rings so so true with me.
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Cheers to fellow-writers!
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