Another Story Preview
It has been a few days now that I get home and after all the routinely chores think about the story I had to write. Each day I would sit on my desk, take my notebook out, a pen in my hand and my eyes would start their job of staring blankly on the white paper in front of me. I could have torn at least twenty of those pages each day for all the failed topics I thought I can write about but thanks to my love for nature, and the knowledge that my next idea would be a waste too, I'd save the page to scribble more poor ideas.
Where do you think this is heading?