So it’s taken about a month, but I’ve found a story to write.  I would love to say it came to me in a great moment of inspiration, but the truth is I woke about 1am with my back aching and the thought that someone was lying very close to me.

Thankfully it turns out my flatmate had neither gone “Single White Gay Friend” on me, nor had some stranger snuck into my bedroom, climbed over me to the side of the bed against the wall and started snuggling me, I was merely suffering a case of the 1am jitters.

But it did get me thinking: what if psychics were real (sorry for those that already  believe this)?  What if, instead of hiding out in the country away from people, the best thing for them to do would be to live in the city?

And what if you had a relationship with one?

And so thanks to my lil’ ghost, I now have an idea for a story.  And it’s weird, it certainly hasn’t started off how I thought it would be – at the moment it almost reads like a thesis, but that does create interesting possibilities from that.


Fun fact for the day:

Did you know that city living dwellers show less ability to cope with stress and statistically are more likely to develop a mental illness?

But the good news is that there are just as many addicts who live in the country as the city.

Happy Days!


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