The writer was stuck for ideas. He looked around the room for inspiration. In the corner was a man juggling three toddlers. A woman on a flaming moped crashed through the front door. The corpse of Elvis Presley played guitar on the armchair. A little girl turned the carpet into candyfloss. A chipmunk spoke some Spanish. The writer tutted as he put his pen lid back on and went to bed.

© Carl Burkitt 2017