I’ve lost my memory stick that had most of my writing on it. I have older versions on another one and on my computer, but I’ve lost at least seven chapters of my second draft. I didn’t have all of it handwritten, since I type pieces of the already existant work and then smooth the transition into the next part of my writing. I am now sad, and have lost all desire to touch the keyboard. I’m going to check my school locker tomorrow but my hopes are not high. Perhaps I will begin to wear black in mourning, not just for the death of my memory stick and writing, but for the death of my streak of good luck. I believe it officially breathed its last today. I guess it was all used up when my school house won the annual music festival.
How did I know my luck was officially gone? I pulled my bag up and picked up my extra books that don’t fit in it while I was on the bus. The bus stopped and I got up, only to trip and fall on my backside in the middle of the aisle. Then my shoe got stuck under my seat somehow. All the year 12s on the bus got to see the show. Perhaps next time I’ll ask for a two dollar admission fee.
