Shakespeare in Love

I loved Shakespeare but when he turned up on my doorstep to declare his love, I was more than a little surprised.

He wasn't dressed to impress, or at least, not me, in his ruff and tights. I'm no Elizabeth. He was just drawing attention to himself.

"It's not Hallowe-en, you fucking weirdo!" a boy in a hoodie shouted, riding past.

"Pray tell, fair maiden, what is a weird-o?"

But he never waited for an answer. Too busy spouting poetry. Yawn! Turns out he just won't shut up so in the end, I just closed the door in his face.

***

100 words exactly

I'm not going to lie: I'm feeling the strain of writing a microfiction every day. Today's is a drabble, a story in exactly 100 words. They will probably be drabbles for the rest of the week as my well has run dry and rather than finding writing enjoyable, I am finding it a drudge, an experience I have never encountered before. I still have stories in me but I don't want to rush them and write them to a deadline and that is what I am struggling with at the moment.

I know. I could stop the challenge but I've come so far. I don't want to give in but this weekend, I resented having to write, like it was a chore like doing the ironing or cleaning toilets.

Anyway, that's why this is shorter. Thanks, Ray, for reminding me of drabbles and keeping my streak going. His latest one is here:

I used a prompt:

Your favourite historical figure is in love with you

From:

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