I looked in the mirror that hung on the wall by my front door, pulled my hair back off my face and tied it in a high ponytail at the back of my head.  Checking I had my keys in my pocket, I headed out the door and put my headphones in before going out for my usual morning run around the estate.

It was only just light and there weren't many people around.  They were probably doing the sensible thing and staying in bed.  There was a slight touch of mist this morning which managed to cover everything.  The perfect setting for a story, I thought.  Then I shook my head, NO!  Bad Louise, you know you shouldn't think about writing.  I knew I would spend the rest of the day thinking about little else as I sat at my desk, scribbling on my jotter.

I was so bored of my job and wanted to quit to be a full time writer, but the last book I'd published hadn't been as successful as we had thought it would be and now I was struggling to find a publisher.  This meant I had to keep my job as a boring nine-to-five secretary at the lawyer's office in the centre of town.

I cleared my mind and focused on the drumming of my heart as I picked up the pace.  I finished the run in twenty minutes, a personal best, and searched in my pocket for the key.  I wasn't looking where I was going and almost stood on the package that was sitting on my doorstep.

There was no note with it so I picked it up and went inside.  The rest of my mail was on the doormat but I left it there and began to tear open the package.  Had I ordered something and forgotten about it?  I didn't think so.

Inside the package was a pen.  It was purple, my favourite colour, with dashes of white.  It looked quite posh, but why was it in a package on my doorstep.  There were words written down the side of the pen.  Watollia.

'Interesting,' I muttered to myself.  'I wonder if it writes well.'  I grabbed my notepad from the kitchen counter and began scribbling, not really thinking about what I was writing.

"The Queen of Watollia, was very nervous. The King and his men had travelled far, to kill the dreaded Dragon that was haunting there kingdom, and he had not returned yet. Two weeks it had been and yet there was no word from him." 

'That was quite good.'  I looked at what I'd written.  I wasn't sure where it had come from, I usually wrote about ghosts and vampires and werewolves but never dragons or invented lands called Watollia.  Maybe that's where I was going wrong.  The supernatural has been severely overused recently and perhaps I should try a new genre.  Fantasy and the supernatural weren't so far apart.

I smiled to myself as I climbed the stairs to go take a shower.  I had a good feeling about today, like something was about to happen.

The End

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