-Victor Hugo-
A few months ago I was sitting in the kitchen of a poet I had been working with for some days. I had the great privilege to stay with her for some time and to work at her archive while basking in the glory of her beautiful library and endless supply of Maltesers. As we sat down for another tea-fuelled break, she said: 'If you cut me I bleed words'. I laughed (I mean, who wouldn't?) but that evening, as I killed time looking at countless book spines (horrified by the number of books I've yet to read, also), I kept thinking about bleeding words. Words, words, words, glorious words. I work on my own most of the time and yet, even though I am alone, I am not lonely, for in my head there is a constant flux of words, words, words. Today I would like you to think of your favourite words and to think about them as free-standing entities. Do you like the sound of them? Their meaning? The memories they may evoke?
Choose your favourite word and begin a story with it.
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