Rosalind sat in a corner at the party trying to write. One never knew when inspiration would hit.
The theme of the party was 1960’s and she had been dragged to the party by her friend Joanne.
Suddenly her heart went piter patter , piter pater.
‘ Had she not moved on and put this silliness aside, believing it honestly and truly with her heart?
And here she was being a party pooper because instead of enjoying this moment she has been hit with inspiration to write. If only he would shut up! Then her heart beat would be normal and she could finally write something worth being read.
Piter Pater, pitter patter. Behind she could hear his laughter. His face appeared in her mind though her eyes were burning into the sheet of paper in front of her.
Her neck burned and suddenly stopped. This was not a time to be writing.
He stopped speaking so she looked. He was still there. Now she hopped he would speak though she kept to herself writing away. She looked once more. How handsome he was in his suit, grey pants, white shirt, navy blazer and tie. ‘ she thought.