I'm writing, believe it or not.

Working on Chapter Two of There's No Book on Love. I'm being slow, yes, but it is getting done. I have a habit of making chapters really short, and rushed. That's what I'm trying to avoid this time around. I'm working on details.

So far, I have a little tidbit done.

***

The night had seemed endless, looking out her bedroom window she watched the city lights shined in front of her, orange and white mixing so vibrantly it resembled a Van Gogh. The sound of sirens echoed down the streets, and even in the deep night people wondered around the streets. Deep Ellum's clubs and bars were busy as ever, and people of all different interests flocked to the neon clad street.

A sigh escaped her lips, the kind of sigh that forms when one feels exhausted. When one feels lost beyond retrieval. She turned and looked in the mirror, her baggy t-shirt hung loosely off her shoulders and boxers fit snugly around her waist, all of the little make up she wore had worn off leaving behind the damaged skin below. She lifted her shirt slightly, examining her stomach, poking and prodding. She dropped the shirt, finally deciding it was less than satisfactory.

She was less than satisfactory.

The note still troubled her, how could someone within total sanity call her beautiful. This feeling was not irrational, and she knew this for a fact. Her school years had proved this correct many times, the tormenting and teasing she endured was all deserved.

She pulled her phone, and slipped her headphones over her ears as she slipped under her blankets. The music could take her away, and introduce her to sleep. The music was her best, and only friend. The lyrics were the words she lived by. With the press of one button, Syd Barrett's lovely voice rung through her head, lulling her to sleep.

I really love you and I mean you, the star above you, crystal blue. Well, oh baby, my hairs on end about you...

***

Yep, that's the WIP. I've added a bit more, but you'll just have to wait. (;