Couldn’t focus. None of my usual tricks worked. Pulled something from my Idea File, finally, fleshed it out, made it as good as I could just to meet my requirements. And I began to suspect I had something worse than a cold. And yes, more photo therapy.
Working Title: On a Slant
1st Sentence: Mr. Coulter was known in our neighborhood as the elderly man who kept a great flower garden and loved little girls.
Favorite Sentence: We also went into the back room—they called it a mud room—where I rummaged through clothes so old they looked like costumes, dressed myself in an outlandish outfit, and then pranced around, putting on an extemporaneous play for Mr. Coulter, who would laugh and clap and then ask my character questions.
Word Length: 887
Photo by Stephan Brunet 11/2007.