Chemical spills and browses through Dymocks, the wealth of words spread out before me in alternate Atlantic wrappings and not a drop to drink.

Screams in frustration.

Something has to break, but it won't, and if it does, I'll just mend it. Patch it up with duct tape. Dark side, light side, holds the universe together. Use the Force, Luke.

*slaps the "Beware the Loony" sign on her forehead and toddles off to bed*