The words blurred into one another, every yellowed page like the one before.
The script was so even and easy on the eye but the words confused me even more, was this for real?
Reading it for the fourth time I came to the conclusion that whoever hand wrote this ageing yellow leafed book had the imagination of a six year old writing lines for punishment. Each page was so similar with only a few details varying. But as the words continued to blur I realised I was just too tired to take all this in. Need a good nights sleep and then I will try again fresh in the morning.
Next day after consuming a strong coffee and croissant I was ready to peruse this ancient puzzle once more. Well imagine my surprise when I realise that this was not written by a six year old but by some kind of philosophical master. It was in fact the same story repeated in at least a dozen different ways.
What an amazing feat, now I was hooked and needed to read it closely and take notes to check if there were repetitions. Nothing had fired my imagination quite like this in ages. I was intrigued to discover such subtle changes in such a wordy manuscript. As a writer this could lead to something I could elaborate on or at least share on wordpress.
A writing prompt which provided the photo and the first line …