To be in a room with other aspiring writers is the ultimate humiliation. The voice of the woman next to me trembles as she introduces herself and I shift my chair backwards, away from her. I wouldn’t ask questions like that – drawn out and desperate. I am different. Pieces I have written have been published in print magazines and I want her to know it. My question is subtly worded to exhibit my achievements but she interrupts me with her nervous cough. When her hand is raised to her mouth I notice her watch, which is much nicer than mine.
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