Almost as good as coffee

I finished a short/flash story yesterday that took me bu surprise. It is an incredibly strange story…without a doubt the oddest thing I’ve ever written. I mentioned it here before…it was supposed to be called “A Mouth For Picket Fences”. But after the way it ended, it was retitled “Mi Casa Es Su Casa” and I sent it to a bizarro magazine to see if they’ll bite.

Other than that, I added about 1,200 words to “The Masks of Our Fathers” and played around with a poem for the Death in Common sequel.

And for some reason, it has been hard to get going this morning.  2 cups of coffee have barely drove away the haze.  So I went elsewhere for a quick pick me up.  It is a source that has been reliable for the last 5 years or so of my life…



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