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Random Talk.


Talena Mae

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"Why'd you do it son? Why'd you have to go off and shoot all your classmates like that? Did you hate them? No, your file says that you had a very active and fulfilling social life. You were the star of your class; athletic, intelligent, and you have pretty good looks to boot. So why?" The old wooden chair grumbles as its dragged across the floor and turned around. Sitting backwards on the chair, the detective faces the suspect, "You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not here to judge you. I just want to know the truth. I want to get inside your head. I want to know why you went crazy that day. What was it that brought you over the edge?" The two figures sit silently for a while suspended in a dull room filled with dust and a dim light. Then, the silent figure's mouth moves almost imperceptibly. The detective notices the slight change in atmosphere and leans forward to press his advantage, "what was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"Because cake," the suspect whispers in a voice that sounds like the crumpling of old paper.

Unblinking, the detective slowly leans back and mumbles, "I see," so that only the suspect can hear. The chair sighs in relief as the detective stands up, picks up his coat, and leaves the suspect's dusty, dim world. Outside, the detective grabs his assistant, "we're leaving." Confused the detective's assistant follows doggedly.

"Sir, where are we going? Did you find anything out? Why'd he do it?" the assistant asks as the two wait for a cab.

Quietly, the detective answers, "we're going to find the boy's lawyer; he's innocent, and I can prove it."

"How?" the assistant presses, as a cab pulls up.

"Cake," the detective responds softly as he gets in behind his assistant and closes the cab door.

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I was sitting outside with my laptop in my roommate's lawn chair type thing, wrapped up in a scarf, gloves, and a blanket. I brought out some cat furniture with me so I can put my feet up. The cats were sitting on the furniture, doing whatever cats do. Then I see them run off into the apartment, so I was like, "Okay, whatevs" because I had my headphones on.

And then I see Java walk by and he says something but I can't hear him and he keeps talking. So I take off my headphones and I ask what's going on. Then Java and my roommate both appear at the deck doors, asking me what's going on. They then went into the apartment and opened my roommate's window (it overlooks the deck). The cats jumped through the window a couple times before getting scared forever.

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Replace "NaNo" with "pot" and you've got a guy I knew in highschool. :P

I've come to realize that I would not be able to make a living as an author, I suck at writing by other people's schedules. If I can work at my own pace, I cando some good stuff, but as soon as I sit down and go "Okay, I have this deadline..." I've got nothing.

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At our old apartment we suspected some of our neighbours partook in the ganja.

You won't really have to work under another's schedule if you just do everything indie! The only thing that might not happen on your schedule would be someone else editing your stuff, but other than that, there's a lot to be said about self-publishing.

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I've considered indie writing. And especially now that Amazon makes it so very easy to self publish, I may actually sit down and finish writing a book. I've got several good ideas running around, and a few in various stages of completion (some just outlines, some half finished, one that I'm in the process of editing before passing off to someone else for a review and proofreading.

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