Short Story / can i write

the corner of the back room was littered, with discarded screwed up balls of paper. it must be this room. the would be author,.thought to himself...

he had started writing in the front room first, then the back room,every bedroom, all three, even the bathroom, although the bathroom was comfortable, and slightly sureal writing in the bathroom.it did have a good feel

but he had a life time fear of electricity, brought on more so from a friend in the seventies, who had bought a concept, cigarette lighter, integrated circuit, the lighters tiny electric spark was a perfect little shocker, when one was'nt expecting it..his mate had clicked it on the back of his neck , while dan, (the would be author ) was behind the wheel of his ,mark one cortina,sat at the traffick lights.waiting for the green light.

click, you twat, that fuckin hurt,turning round to look at his mate ,in disbelief

give it here ! let me do it to you.

which made his friend laugh even more,.his laugh was hysterical, it had made the driver jump so much, the prankster was in tears,

the lights , he was trying to say, the lights had changed to green,dan sped off through the lights,and rubbed his neck,the first chance he got,

was it that bad? his friend asked,

knowing dans patients with him was wearing thin,. do it to yourself..dan said knowing, his friend would'nt. .dan did like his friend, but not his warped humour. i'll get the twat back one day, he thought to himself....

he never did, and his mate left the area.

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