My creativity was at a peak when I was eleven years old. At that time, we were given a topic to write about, such as "time travel". Every week a new short story with limited amount of words on the subject. I thrived when given a topic. I remember my imagery to this day. Disturbed child, torn away from society and confortable environment, staring moodily out of car window, watching raindrops roll down the glass like tears down a cheek.

No longer does anyone tell me what to write about. So I ask you.

"Write about how ace I am... Ah no. Forget it. You want more than one sentance."

You are ace as surely as scones are to be eaten with clotted cream. You are acer than kiwis. Yes; be astounded, for I have placed you before kiwis. You are more ace than anyone could guess at, plus one more than they can ever say, to infinity, beyond and back.

That's four sentences.