Amy Palmer

Of writing, reading and creating

Page: About

You cross the room and push the door next to the ‘Author at work’ sign fully open. The room you step into is darker than the one you have just left. There seems to be only one small window, and while it’s open it’s also hidden behind a light curtain, limiting the brightness of the room.

A large desk dominates the room, really the only piece of furniture of note. The walls are covered in posters and quotes. One side of the desk is stacked with notebooks and, at a closer look, books that appear to be about writing and editing.

The typing and humming that you heard from the other room is coming from a woman sitting behind the desk. She has large headphones on and a computer screen set up in front of her.

You step closer to the desk and she looks up. She pushes the headphone back, running a hand through cropped curls to settle them before gesturing to the seat on your side of the desk. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear the bell. Can I help you with anything?”


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