short story brainstorms?

Sat, 10/16/2021 - 23:39 -- woila

The short stories unit of my creative writing class has arrived and I have coincidentally been stricken by a most inconvenient creative rut

(in all fairness, I have always been a terribly myopic plotter.) Perhaps if I can get some good sleep for the first time in four or five nights that will help the problem. 

Ongoing semi-draft post. Mostly just a digital dart board. If still looking for finished poetry or other prose, move along. 

**personal note double parentheticals planned replacement; rm remove; re reorganize; ++ planned addition

 

 

 

writing various piecemeal introductions to get the creative pipes flowing 

horror story? Yay

computer horror. I guess. 
Perhaps computer body horror. That horse hasn't quite been beaten to death yet; it's just about comatose. 
 

The great Arnold, well endowed with his prophecies for the human race.

My father sat me proudly on his lap and told me some day everything would be going around on these things called "betamaxis"

monologuing cheerily on how his father before him told him about magnetic discs and 78 records

Perhaps my mother was tired

"Please, Andy. Be an accountant. Something normal."

But I sure never had any ((much)) fun with the idea of cooking books.

I like my work, all right. parse-contain-hyphenate-close-return.

 

Tonight I'm assigned with correcting course. at eight p.m. I'll be here to

 

My introduction to Henry Thurston

 

more than that, I can't stand the rattling

 cu-thACK-THACK-THACK

strangling the life out of the keyboard,

and of course I never forgot the day the bastard had planted a cockroach under the fan mounts, 

"Look out for bugs." 
 

 

Today, it's fingernails. It felt like I was typing on -rm-half-popped popcorn kernels,-rm- a jar ((locket)) full of thumbtacks

click-rattle-rattle-click

There, I see how they're coming out of the keyboard. ((There,)) Pale claws emerging from milk teeth,

And I remembered that dream, when I'd had the most awful fever and was stiff with delirium,

My old cat, Snowball, grasping the nitrous hose with one thumbless hand and rearing a drill with the other.

"Oh, you're really in it now, aren't you, you sorry naked ape?"

 

 

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