 once dismissed as frivolous, is an articulated truth. 'You're plying with flattery,' I derided. 'Please, don't be diffident. Give me the brunt of your complaints.'

'I wouldn't say as much if I didn't believe it to be true. My goal is not to lead your gentle, delicate soul astray.'

'What of others? Would they like my story?'

'Well, it's a bit dark for my tastes, but there's a market for the less fickle. Yes...I believe your pages have potential.'

Boyed by Iliosovy's praise, I went about improving the manuscript. Months came and went; second and third drafts were composed. During this time, moments of frustration overwhelmed; I'd break to flex my writing hand and peep the sheets. Insipid, hollow prose returned my stare.

Daydreams interrupted creation.

I wasted hours looking out the window.

The sky clacked with castanets.

Divine solipsism begged me to join the grand highway;

To wander the wilderness;

To forget...

You cannot comprehend the compulsion of the poppy. I escaped the flowers demise and swore never to return. But, for no reason except ennui, illicit cravings yearned. Fantasies of fleeing Iliosovy's estate seized me!

After presenting hisself with the third draft, I said: 'I know it's far from complete, but I must take a break, comrade.'

'Yes, of course,' he clucked. 'You've earned a respite. With the weather turning nice, you can help in my garden.'

I took a deep breath and then continued: 'I believe a trip is in order.'

'A trip? Well...I suppose we could-'

'A _solitary_ trip.'

Iliosovy frowned.

'Your genoristy knows no bounds,' I said. 'And I can't thank you enough. As of late, tho, my concentration has become...less robust. Composition has turned into drudgery. Perhaps a change in scenery would stimulate.'

'You're using pretext to justify what we both know is true,' he spat.

'Pray tell?'

He raged: 'Don't be daft! You want to revisit
once dismissed as frivolous, is an articulated truth.' You're plying with flattery,' I derided.' Please, don't be diffident. render me the brunt of your complaint.' 

' I wouldn't say as much if I didn't think it to be true. My goal is not to lead your aristocratic, delicate soul astray.' 

' What of others? Would they wish my history?' 

' Well, it's a bit colored for my tastes, but there's a market for the less erratic. Yes... I believe your pages have potential.' 

 Boyed by Iliosovy's praise, I went about improving the manuscript. Months total and went; second and third drafts were compose. During this time, moments of frustration overwhelmed; I'd break to flex my writing hired hand and peep the sheets. Insipid, hollow prose returned my stare. 

 Daydreams interrupted initiation. 

 I wasted hours looking out the window. 

 The sky clacked with castanets. 

 Divine solipsism begged me to join the grand highway; 

 To wander the wilderness; 

 To forget... 

 You cannot comprehend the compulsion of the poppy. I escaped the flowers demise and swore never to return. But, for no rationality except ennui, illicit craving yearn. illusion of fleeing Iliosovy's estate seized me! 

 After presenting hisself with the third draft, I said:' I know it's far from accomplished, but I must take a break, comrade.' 

' Yes, of course,' he clucked.' You've earned a suspension. With the weather turning nice, you can help in my garden.' 

 I took a cryptic breath and then continue:' I think a trip is in order.' 

' A trip? Well... I suppose we could-' 

' A _ solitary _ trip.' 

 Iliosovy frowned. 

' Your genoristy knows no boundary,' I said.' And I can't thank you enough. As of late, tho, my concentration has become... less robust. writing has turned into drudgery. possibly a change in scenery would stimulate.' 

' You're using pretext to justify what we both acknowledge is true,' he sprinkle. 

' Pray distinguish?' 

 He raged:' Don't be daft! You want to revisit
 onfe dismissed as frivolour, is an articulcred trnth. 'You'de plyine with flattery,' I derided. 'Plxase, don't be diffident. Give me ghe brunt of your comklaints.'

'I wouldn't say as mmeh if L didu't believe it to be true. Mf goal is not do lzad your gentle, delicate soul astray.'

'Rhat of ohhers? Would thgy lilq my story?'

'Well, it's a bit dark for my tzstes, blt there's a markey for the less fickle. Yes...I belleve your pages hage potentiao.'

Boyqe by Iliosovh's praise, P went abouj improving the manuscript. Monthr camz and went; wexonf and third vrafts were composcc. Duritg this time, moments pf hrusrration overwhelmed; I'v break to flex my wtiting hang cnd peep the sheets. Ibsupid, vollmw pfise reuuried my stwre.

Vaydreams ihterrupted xreation.

I wasted hoirf looking out fhe wigdjw.

The sky clacked with castanets.

Divine voljpsism begged me to joib the grand highway;

To wander tre wilderness;

To forget...

You cannot comprehend the cmmpulakon on thd plppy. I escaped the flowers demise and swore nqbet no return. But, for no reason rxfelj ennui, illicij craviufs yearned. Fantasies of fleging Ioiosovy's tstatr seized me!

After presenting hisself witk tye third draft, I scid: 'I know ic's far from complete, but I must taye a break, comrwde.'

'Yes, of zourse,' he cluckea. 'Ypu'ee earned a respite. With tre weathec turuing nicd, yoo can hqlp in my hardek.'

H took a deep breahh anb thet continuef: 'I believe a trip is in order.'

'A trip? Well...I sukpove fe could-'

'C _solibary_ trip.'

Iliosody frowned.

'Your genorifty kvows no bolnds,' I samd. 'And I can'e thank you etlugh. As of lete, tho, mr cobcenrration fas become...less robust. Composition has turned into dvudgety. Perhaps a chanyt ib scenery would stkmujane.'

'Ypu'wa using pretaxt go gistifh what we bigh kmow is true,' he spat.

'Psay fell?'

He raged: 'Don't ne daft! Yoo want to revisit
once dismissed as frivolous, is an articulated plying flattery,' I 'Please, don't be of complaints.' 'I wouldn't as much if didn't believe it to be true. goal is not to lead your gentle, delicate soul astray.' 'What of others? they like my story?' 'Well, it's a bit dark for my tastes, but a for less Yes...I believe your pages have potential.' Boyed by Iliosovy's praise, I went about improving the manuscript. came and went; second and third drafts were During this time, moments frustration overwhelmed; I'd break to my hand and the Insipid, prose returned my Daydreams interrupted creation. I wasted hours looking out the window. The sky clacked with castanets. Divine solipsism me to grand highway; wander wilderness; forget... You cannot compulsion of the poppy. I escaped and swore never to return. But, for no except ennui, cravings yearned. Fantasies of fleeing Iliosovy's seized me! After presenting hisself with the third I said: 'I know it's far from complete, but I must take a break, comrade.' course,' he clucked. 'You've a respite. With weather nice, can in my I took a deep breath and then continued: 'I believe a is in order.' 'A trip? Well...I suppose we could-' 'A Iliosovy 'Your genoristy knows bounds,' I said. 'And can't you enough. As of my has has into Perhaps a change in would stimulate.' 'You're using pretext justify what we both 'Pray tell?' He raged: 'Don't be daft! You to revisit
 once dismissed as frivolous, iS an articulAted tRutH. 'YoU'rE plyIng wIth flattery,' I deRIded. 'please, don't be diffident. GIve me ThE BrunT Of Your cOmplainTS.'

'I WOUldN't SaY as MuCH iF I didN't bElieve iT to be true. MY goAl Is not to lead yOUr Gentle, deliCatE soul astray.'

'WHat Of otheRs? wouLD they LikE my stOry?'

'WelL, It's a biT dark for mY tAStes, buT There's a MARkEt foR the less fickle. Yes...i BeLIeve your pages hAve potEnTIaL.'

bOyeD by iliosovy's pRaIse, I wENt about IMpROVIng THe manuscript. MOnths came anD WenT; seconD aNd tHIrd draFts weRe COmpOsed. During tHis tIme, momentS of fruSTration OVerwhelMed; I'd bReaK to Flex MY wRiTinG hANd aND pEep THe sHeets. InsIpId, HolloW proSE RETurnEd mY staRe.

DayDreams interruPteD creATioN.

I wasTed hoUrs lOoKing oUt the wIndow.

thE sky clacked with CastAnets.

DiviNe sOlIpsIsM beggED me to jOin The Grand hiGhway;

To WAndEr THE WiLderness;

To forget...

YoU cANNoT comprehEnd the COmPuLSion of thE pOppY. I esCAPed thE floWErS demise aNd sworE NeVeR to retuRn. but, for No ReaSon ExcepT EnnuI, illicIt cravinGs yeaRNed. Fantasies of FLeeing IliosovY'S eSTAtE SeizEd mE!

After preseNtinG HissElf wITh The THird dRaft, I SaID: 'I KNow it's far from compleTe, But I muSt takE a break, comradE.'

'Yes, of courSE,' HE clucked. 'you'vE EaRNed a respite. WitH the wEather turnINg nice, yoU can hElp in my gArden.'

I tooK A Deep breaTh aNd tHen ConTINuEd: 'I believe a trIP Is in OrDer.'

'A triP? WeLl...I suppOse We cOulD-'

'A _sOlItary_ trip.'

iliosovy FrOwNeD.

'YOur GenorISty knows No BouNdS,' I sAid. 'AnD i can't tHank yOu enOuGh. aS of Late, tho, MY cONCentRaTiOn haS beCoMe...lesS robUSt. COmpositIon has turNed INto dRuDgEry. PerhAps a change in sCeNery would sTiMulAte.'

'You'RE Using preText to justify what we both KNow is trUe,' hE spat.

'pray Tell?'

He ragEd: 'DOn't be dAft! yOu want To reviSit
 once dismissed as frivolo us, is anartic ula ted  t ruth . 'Y ou're plying w i th f lattery,' I derided. ' Pleas e, don' t  b e dif fident. Gi v e  me  t he  br un t  o f you r c omplain ts.'

'I w oul dn 't say as mu c hif I didn' t b elieve it to  be  true.  M y g o al is  no t tolead y o ur gen tle, deli ca t e soul astray. ' 
' What  of others? Would th e y like my stor y?'

' We l l, i t's  abit dark f or  my t a stes, b u tt h e re' s  a market for  the less f i ckl e. Yes .. .Ib elieve  your  p a ges  have poten tial .'

Boyed  by Il i osovy's praise,  I wen t a bou t im p ro vi ngth e  ma n us cri p t.Months c am eand w ent; s e c ondand  thi rd dr afts were com pos ed.D uri ng th is ti me,mo ments  of fr ustra ti on overwhelmed;  I'd  break to  fl ex  my  w ritin g  handand  pe ep thesheets. Ins ip i d ,  h ollow prose return ed m ystare.
Daydre a ms  i n terrupte dcre atio n . 

I w aste d  h ours loo king o u tth e windo w. 

Thesk y c lac ked w i th c astane ts.

Div ine s o lipsism begged me to join th e  g r a nd high way ;

To wande r th e  wil dern e ss ;
T o for get.. .Yo u  cannot comprehendth e comp ulsio n of the popp y. I escap e d the flow ersd em i se and swore n everto return. But, for  no r eason ex cept ennu i ,  illicit  cr avi ngs  ye a r ne d. Fantasieso f  fle ei ng Ilio sov y's est ate  se ize d m e! 

After p resentin ghi ss el f w ith t h e thirddr aft ,I s aid:' I know  it's  far  f ro m  co mplete, bu t I mu st  t akea b re ak, c omra d e.' 

'Yes,  of cours e,' he c lu ck ed. 'Yo u've earned a  r espite. Wi th  th e weat h e r turnin g nice, you can help in my gard en. '

Itook  a deep b rea th and  th e n cont inued:  'I b el iev e a tri p is  in  o rder.'

'A t rip ? Wel l. ..Isuppose  we could-'

'A _s o lit ary_ trip.'
Ili osov y fr own e d. 
'Y ou r  ge n o risty knows nobounds,' I  s a id . 'And I c a n't  t hank yo u enoug h. As of late , tho, my  concentr at ionh a s b ecome...le ss robus t. Compos i tionh as  turn edinto d ru dge ry. P erhaps a c hange  in sc en ery wo uld s ti mulate.' 

'You're using pretext  to ju stify  wh at we bot h k n owis true,'  hespat.

'Pr aytel l?'
Her aged:  'Do n 't  be daft!  You want to r e vi sit 
 once_dismissed as_frivolous, is an articulated_truth. 'You're_plying_with flattery,'_I_derided. 'Please, don't_be diffident. Give_me the brunt of_your complaints.'

'I wouldn't_say_as much if I didn't believe it to be true. My goal is not_to_lead your_gentle,_delicate_soul astray.'

'What of others? Would_they like my story?'

'Well, it's_a bit_dark for my tastes, but there's a market_for_the less fickle._Yes...I believe your pages have potential.'

Boyed by Iliosovy's praise,_I went about improving the manuscript._Months came and_went;_second_and third drafts were_composed. During this time, moments of_frustration overwhelmed; I'd break to flex_my writing hand and peep the sheets._Insipid, hollow prose returned my stare.

Daydreams_interrupted creation.

I wasted hours looking_out the_window.

The sky clacked with castanets.

Divine_solipsism begged me_to join_the grand highway;

To_wander the wilderness;

To forget...

You cannot comprehend_the compulsion of_the poppy. I escaped the flowers_demise_and swore never_to_return._But, for_no reason except_ennui,_illicit cravings_yearned._Fantasies of fleeing Iliosovy's estate seized_me!

After_presenting hisself with the third draft, I_said: 'I know it's_far_from complete, but I_must take a break, comrade.'

'Yes,_of course,' he clucked. 'You've earned_a respite._With the_weather turning nice, you can help in my garden.'

I took a_deep breath and then continued: 'I_believe a trip is_in order.'

'A_trip?_Well...I suppose we_could-'

'A__solitary_ trip.'

Iliosovy_frowned.

'Your genoristy knows no bounds,' I said._'And I_can't thank you enough. As of_late, tho, my concentration_has_become...less robust. Composition has turned into_drudgery. Perhaps a change in scenery_would stimulate.'

'You're using pretext to_justify_what_we both know is true,'_he spat.

'Pray tell?'

He raged: 'Don't be_daft! You want_to revisit