Use these lyrics to build your piece of fiction around.
Well honestly I don't remember who you are”
Liam Finn: Second chance
The Confider lent her head against the worn timber box, smoothed with ageless hands and heads such as hers. A rustle of thick handspun material heralded the arrival of another Admissor. The rattling gift of a bent guish confirmed her suspicions that the Admissor would be uneducated and therefore The Confider only half listened to the hesitation in her speech and the laboured breathing of guilt.
This is my first draft for this story and its part of research for my book I will be writing for NANO - so watch for more linked research ( the lables will be marked Mistress Moon)