The Author At Work
As Jerome pushed back the clattering sectionate wood that comprised the cover of his ornate roll-top desk, he took pen in hand. Pausing to think deeply on the scene, he incised a nearly perfect image of the leading edges of his bicuspids into the soft, yielding plastic of his inexpensive ballpoint. Realizing that he was going to have to describe a dark and stormy night, he thought, "This is not going to end well."