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It would be fun.” They said.

You could write about having a nice holiday in the tropics.” They said.

It wasn’t working.

None of it was.

Mary’s job as a travel writer was supposed to mean that she and Andrew got to enjoy all expenses paid trips around the world, provided that she wrote about what they experienced.

Right now nothing was working.

The blank pieces of paper staring back at her from the writing desk mocked the writer’s block that she was suffering from. Andrew had supported her, up to a point. She had cut him off from her for the first few days — there would be time for fun, she had promised. That time would come after she had done her articles. He had spent those few days staring off into space from the deck chair in front of the bungalow. What should have been a simple trip to write about what it was like on a tropical resort before a few dirty days in paradise was rapidly becoming a nightmare. There had been no writing, and now she had a grumpy partner who was getting progressively more isolated. Their return flight home was in a few days time and the situation didn’t look like it was going to improve any time soon. Paradise was becoming a Paradise Lost.

Mary finally screwed up the blank paper and threw it out in disgust. Her article was a lost cause. She and Andrew didn’t need to be one. She was going to have to make up some ground, and lunch would be a good start.

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