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  • ‘Sake.’ She sat staring at her computer, willing the Bastard thing to write her a novel, even a Novella, or a God damn poem would do. The computer smirked and started to type. “There was a young man named Carlos…” but it was stumped at what to put next, so backspaced fast before she noticed and poured the remains of her tea into its keyboard.

    Oblivious to all of this, she took a hearty swig and promptly rewound the process straight back at the monitor as she had forgotten that the lack of ashtrays in her room meant cold beverages finally had more purpose then the usual penicillin growing facility. Fluid and dog-ends a plenty showered the computer in an almost immediate act of karma. The computer hissed its distaste and in retaliation switched itself off.

    She sat for a moment, looking at the grey, tea embroidered bane of her life, and then deciding to make the most of a bad situation, took a couple of pictures of it on her digital camera, (which she could work up into a whole series of something deep and meaningful one day.) She checked her phone. Two messages from her daughter who was in the next room but still hadn’t got over the novelty of owning a mobile saying ‘Hello xxxx ’, and ‘Poo !!!!!!! xx ’.

    Absentmindedly she switched it off and threw it into her laundry bin. She carefully removed the knot of dog that was asleep under her chair before wandering to the toilet,

    ‘Hehehehehe! Hi Mum.’

    Her daughter was sat on the toilet in the dark, face lit up by a murky green glow coming from the DS she was holding 6 inches from her nose.

    ‘What are you doing!?’
    ‘I’m having a poo.’
    ‘Why are you having a poo at quarter past ten, in the dark, with your Game Boy on?’
    ‘Well, my tummy was hurting and I don’t think it really knows what the time is and it’s not a Game Boy, it’s a DS and I’m on level six.’

    She gave up and turned to go down stairs, defeated.

    ‘Goodnight Mum’
    ‘Goodnight Love.’
    I love you,’
    ‘I love you too,’
    ‘See you in the morning,’
    ‘See you in the morning,’
    ‘Get some sleep,’
    Yes, you get some sleep,’
    ‘Okay, I’ll try, you try as well,..’
    Old Man God, shoot me now…..
    ‘Okay, night Love.’

    By now she was at the bottom of the stairs, and the knot of dog was awake and rhythmically taking it in turns to jump up and poke her whilst sliding over on the laminate floor. Ignoring the ambush, She fought her way into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Mother was on the computer.

    ‘Hey Mother.’
    ‘Baaaahhhhhh! I wish you wouldn’t do that!’
    Hehehehehehehe. Sorry.’
    ‘For God sake child!’

    She dreaded to think what kind of reception she would get if she crawled Gurkha style, silent and deadly, into the room, stood up behind her and yelled ARSE!

    The knot of dog was still relentlessly bouncing up her and prodding, so absentmindedly she gave in and fussed the three bobbing heads.
    ‘Get off. Sit. SI..’
    As furry skull connected with human nose, she was temporarily lost for words.

    She gave up on the fresh tea and peaceful evening of composing a new and exciting best seller, and settled for a tap water and bed. As she trailed back to her room, knot of dog in tow, her daughters muffled celebrations came drifting through the bathroom door.
    ‘Level seven?’

    She smiled to herself as she shut herself in her room, wondering if she would ever find the inspiration and the peace and quiet she needed to write. Then she realized, she already had. Life was good.
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