ginger-bread-girl

Two opponents on a battlefield. On one side, the tired author, a sharpened quill in his hand and deadly computer keys in the other. On the other side, the blank piece of paper stands tall, rejoicing in its power over the meek author. En garde! The quill flashes in the sun (bright, shiny, deadly) and the writer advances! Fwish, fwish, shing! The paper rolls around and springs back up, mocking the poor man with his shiny blankness. Fight, you heathen! The writer roars and slashes out Contact! black ink splatters across the paper, spreading quickly and marring the page. The paper snarls and wraps itself around the man's arm