Jane Banbury was sitting at her desk. It was a dark desk, made of solid wood. Empty, apart from sheets of lined paper, an ink pen, a mild table lamp and a cup of steaming black tea. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, not wanting …
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Jane Banbury’s Worst Writing Place
Jane Banbury had more than an hour to wait for her train and it was unpleasantly cold at the station. The café on the opposite road side was not a place she would usually visit. As a writer, she avoided crowded places, nosy people, all …
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