I feel a bit like a psychic. I can see fragments of her future without the full picture. I wonder if it is like this for everyone who tries to write.
I did not expect to be as rusty as I am about all of this. I'm the Tin Man begging for oil and a very busy Dorothy trying to apply it at any opportunity.
I am enjoying playing with words. It is hard and frustrating but sublimely enjoyable.
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