I love it that the flu-stricken me really was trying to write well, despite knowing that I couldn’t. I remember noticing and accepting the total lack of creative interest in what I was doing. But the evidence is on the page: Throughout this shorty there are scratched-out phrases and sentences. So obviously I was still trying to uphold some kind of standard. My fever broke late the night I wrote this one, so this is the last shorty I wrote while seriously sick. As for the photo, I’m resorting again to photo therapy for my still-recovering self. One of the many things that makes me happy: fresh raspberries. Maine is justly known for blueberries but should be known for raspberries, too. But the summer feels awfully far away right now.
Working Title: Scraped Knee
1st Sentence: He’d slipped on the ice on the way to this car and scraped his knee.
Favorite Sentence: Once he was on the road to certain recovery, the knowledge that a scraped knee could have killed him grabbed him by the throat and he could take only short, shallow breaths.
Word Length: 804
Photo by Flickr user bluewaikiki.com 2008.
Daily Shorty 
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