I push the door of the chemist open, dreading what I will have to do. There's already a girl in there. She looks up from the paper she's holding. I walk up to the pharmacist and smile.
"Chaucer. The usual," I say, handing over my prescription with a flourish. She disappears. I turn to the girl and hold out my hand. She shakes it, somewhat nervously.
"Chancey Chaucer, aspiring author. What you here for?" I ask.
"I'm Rayley, Hetsworth. I've been given School for Idleness."
"School? Nasty. I got that, bout a year ago. Then I started writing, and I ended up with authoritis, also called O.W.S, Obsessive Writing Syndrome."
"Here you go!" says the returned receptionist, holding out a white paper bag like thing.
"What've I got this time? Oh no, a Protagonize ban," I say, checking inside.