In hospital tonight, I met my protagonist in the novel I’m writing for NaNoWriMo. She is perfection.
Brunette, compassionate, polite, kind, a flower in her hair for Melbourne Cup even though like me, she doesn’t like horse racing. Wicked legs and a firm breast, but with wider hips.
Considerate, patient, present and mindful.
Free. Looks like she walks on clouds and water and here she is, looking after me.