Emergency exits are located in the rear of my head

snail in short story

I feel like I missed something. Last week, or last story anyway, I said that I was going to diligently monitor the process and point out exactly when my story came together. I’m not real sure that happened. I mentioned billiard balls a bunch of times and an old guy. Then I mentioned that his wife was dead. Then I saw a walking idiom and then I was done with the story. I don’t know. Maybe that’s enough for you guys. Doesn’t feel like it to me.

I was really going to lock it down and give you the step by step, but it sort of slipped past me…which is weird since I’m the only one involved. You’d think I’d notice something like a three thousand word story coming into existence inside my head. Maybe not.

So I guess I’ll try again this time. I swear to you that I’ve got absolutely nothing right now. Zip. Plus my birthday is next Monday which means I’ll be celebrating next weekend which means that I’ll probably not have a lot of free time which means that oh man I just stressed myself out. When am I going to write this thing? And what is it going to be about? Oh god I’ve got nothing! Panic! Panic! Quick! Open a Word file. Type something. Anything. A talking moose. A dancing hot fudge sundae. Lover’s quarrels and revenge filled loners. A dancing hot fudge sundae who can’t handle that his girlfriend the talking moose won’t support him in his dream to be on Broadway? Sure! Yes! Something! Anything!