Well then...

I've been racked up in bed for 6 hours and I'll probably be here for another 9 hours at least so I'm going to take this time to write. A lot. What I'm going to write I don't know, but Stephen King suggest toying with stories to pass the time when one should be sleeping. "Beats the hell out of counting sheep." He says. So we'll take a stab at it then, shall we? What should it be about? Who should be in it? Where and when should it be set? 

Oh! I know. I should get a picture from my photo libraries and use it as "a stimulus to respond to in the form of my choice." Just like good ole exams. 

Ah, this is perfect. Although I don't know who it's by, I would like to credit them entirely for the picture. 

Now, how to begin...

Selling Smiles: Part I

On the crowded subway platform, swarming with desolation, I stand. The Average Joe and the Simple Susie on their way to their jobs, dour faced beneath caked expression and feigned emotion. Their attire strangely uniform, the same colours of subdued. The latest fashions blending in with the last seasons select, a blur of inarticulate ignorance; Small reflective, almost novel, buttons defining the drag of their jowls and the condescension they'll wear to the grave. 

I see the brightly coloured advertisements dredge the life out of the small enclosed space with empty promises and false hope.  'At the right price, the grass can always be greener.' 

As the thunderous crescendo of the next train approaches I smile, unburdenedly, and wonder to myself, what is our obsession with those funny little letters? Those little letters and those big numbers? 

I feel that this could be merely an abridged version, I could serialise the rest at some later point if I wanted to, so I think I shall. 

Salutations,

Little Blue.