The Sea of Papers
1/1
My thoughts are spread out around me. My hand still moves on the desk, my pencil scribbling away at the paper, and then, another thought gets tossed to the floor. My mind keeps reeling though, and more papers get discarded to the floor.
I'm swimming in a chair with a desk in my sea of recorded thoughts.
Everyone surrounds me and waits for any kind of progress, any kind of material that comes from my mind. Anything that could make me or break me, anything that would provide entertainment or disgust, they want and wait for it. But with the way it's all going, I've only random and curious thoughts written down.
There's no plot anymore, there's no characters, there's no climax, there's no point. There's only me, the narrator, there's only these thoughts, the subject, and then there's the mystery or the solution, the ending.
Just as this is.
The end.
I'm swimming in a chair with a desk in my sea of recorded thoughts.
Everyone surrounds me and waits for any kind of progress, any kind of material that comes from my mind. Anything that could make me or break me, anything that would provide entertainment or disgust, they want and wait for it. But with the way it's all going, I've only random and curious thoughts written down.
There's no plot anymore, there's no characters, there's no climax, there's no point. There's only me, the narrator, there's only these thoughts, the subject, and then there's the mystery or the solution, the ending.
Just as this is.
The end.