Let my trip be yours.

The following will be a short story. I will discuss it more after the fact as I have not written it yet. Now I will commence writing it so you may commence reading it. Enjoy. (Note: Do not enjoy)

The butterscotch wrapper crinkled in the sun. A shock of green grass braced against it, shielding it from the red rage of the noonday sun. I gazed upward at the piney trees, so oaky in their elmishness. Hadn’t I suffered enough in this infernal conflict? Perhaps sweet rapture would be my only release. The time to galvanize was fast approaching. I watched the wind distribute the leaves across the parched lawn. Listened to their crunchy rustling softly thunder underfoot. I spied meself a roustabout, twirling in the rays of mother gas-giant. Perchance a cuckolded young bachelor, robbed of his love as thine fishes may be robbed on them guts upon filetiation time. Alas, cranberries.

Well, that was fun. Publishing deal, please!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: