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[Silver]

Working on writing another novel. Again. Think Orwell's Animal Farm, but from a furry, anthropomorphic perspective.

This is all I have so far:

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When it comes to sounds, they can often be scary. Most of them I have heard on the farm. You might think that I would be accustomed to the noises, but they still surprise me on a regular basis. Typically, in the morning as a startling wakeup alarm.

An indulgent commotion here is the all too common rapport of gunshots. That and the heartbreaking whining of animals. One tends to follow the other, although the order in which they occur is not predictable. And one is not always a result of the other.

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Edit, another paragraph:

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The view from my window is spectacular. Often a needed respite, the visual of distant mountains to the west offer a kind of sanctuary from the tortured thoughts occupying my mind. These thoughts that offer little in the way of proper recess are a recent infliction, and something I have kept to myself. Although I am questioning why these thoughts are bothering me, others will question much more.

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