Tabitha looked up at the ceiling fan in the café she was sitting at, drinking her regular cup of tea as was the usual for wednesday mornings. She wondered how well someone could hurt themselves if they died razorbarbed wire around their neck and hung themselves from the ceiling fan. She also wondered how fun it would be if the ceiling fan was made out of steel which would cut her head into little...
Why am I creating this page? I don’t know, perhaps I just like attention. Actually this is more here to keep track of my writing and more specifically its canon. Because I can’t seem to establish a canon…everything is just a mess.