Kids Like Us

I was sitting in my bedroom at my house one day, my fingers typing away at the keyboard. My mom walked into my house, as she ussually does without knocking and came back to my room to see what I was doing.

"What is that your typing?" Ussually she stands over me and just reads without interupting, but this time I guess I was typing so fast that her eyes couldn't even keep up.

"I'm writing the next great american novel."

~*~*~*~*~

Ok so maybe it's not "great american novel" material, but when I was really into the story I truly beleived it could be. Now, I'm once again rather distracted and the few chapters I have will probally live for ever in this folder, never to be turned into anything but rubbish.

But anyway, here it is.