002

The pencil scratched across the paper for a moment before pausing again. He sighed and looked out the window. Writing was the hardest thing in the world to commit to. You had no boss, no deadlines but those which you set and which you could amend as you saw fit. You sit there deliberately trying to let your mind wander and, well, it does. Almost everything else looks more interesting. He looked around at his desk littered with mangled shapes of folded paper. Not discarded drafts, the latest distraction was origami. Sort of. With no instruction manual and no one to show him how, he’d decided to give it a go anyway. Kids can do this stuff, so someone with a degree from Sydney Uni should be able to do it, no sweat. He picked one up. If you looked at it from the right angle, it could be a dog. Or a rocket ship. Or even a really crappy piece of badly folded paper. Smartarse kids. He picked up the pencil again.