Meanwhile, the writer was determined to get to a reasonably high word count irrespective of what that meant for the quality of the story.  She typed like the wind, except for the long gaps in which she was checking her phone, or making cups of tea, or yawning. 

Sometimes she would go off on a tangent about how she was looking forward to having crumpets for tea when she ought to have been describing Amelia’s hat collection (which was vast, expensive and unexpected; not least because Amelia never wore hats, not even at weddings or funerals).

And when she ought to have been making subtle hints about the whereabouts of Chris’ mother, she was actually looking up forums about digital photography in the hope someone would be able to enlighten her on the best way to take a self portrait to go with one of several articles she was writing on the side. 

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