One of those boring days.
Stayed in bed whole day long.
Alternating between Hornet’s Nest, The Fifth Sacred Thing and The Collected Short Stories Of Jeffery Archer.
Now I’m typing with a steaming cappuccino in my hand and an omelet staring at me. This reminds me of Sir Anthony Hopkins somehow.
I don’t know why, I feel like crushing something between my jaws, or shout out loud.
Silence Of The Lambs maybe…
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