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I swallowed the already lukewarm coffee and ate the cardboard-like cornflakes. Being a student of cereal packets and sauce bottles I noted that one plateful of the packet’s contents would sustain me for hours and ensure regular opening of my bowels. The dreary aspect through the dining room window and the fact that the McIntosh predicted snow was falling, failed to tempt me into a morning stroll, so I set match to fire and attempted to work. It was at mid-morning when I finally exploded with my ‘Writer’s block’ wail. I was in the slough of despond, the mire of misery. I saw myself as never writing again, and having to spend the rest of my life as a fettler in a foundry or some such inspiring task. I lusted for a mid-morning cup of tea, but feared the terse Mrs. McIntosh’s disapproval of such conspicuous consumption. Then I rallied my scattered forces, what was left of them, and decided on one more assault upon the castle ‘Block’. ‘Something sexy to open with,’ I thought. ‘It’ll. I squirted water up my ass to clean it all out so that my hole is squeaky clean for his cock and then just freshened up and put on some clothes and I was all ready. I had to walk like 20 minutes to the meeting spot in the cold at like 5:30 in the morning which kind of spooked me out because I was scared someone would see me. The walk wasn’t bad until I got to the street we would meet and that’s because the street was practically a highway the way cars were speeding down it. I was just scared of being hit. The area on the road I was supposed to meet was meant for cars to pull over, it was sort of like a small outward area for cars to pull over and park safely. I had gotten there a little before him and was just waiting and trying to contact him to see were and how far he is from the spot. I was only waiting for like a couple minutes before I saw his truck attached to a huge RV and he shouted at me that he would be back because he has to turn around since he couldn’t park where I was.
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