Over at Sarsaparilla, there is a very, very short story competition to which my mind has become ridiculously addicted and most of my day has now become six word thoughts:
Synthetics on the bus. Plus wee.
Washing on. What’s next? Red wine.
I’m sure there will be more.
Update
Mum’s winning? Change the rules. Quick!
Why not try iambic pentameter for a break?