So, I spent most of today saving an entire family of wandering minstrels from their burning home-cart while also cutting the ribbon to the city’s new orphanage. Then I tracked down the demons (real demons, of course) that were responsible for setting everything on fire in the first place. I destroyed them by strangling them with their own tails. Then I went to space. You know, for fun. It’s like a summer home. In autumn.
Actually, I just ate a lot of Thanksgiving food, played Magic, and tried to make art out of burning candles.
Still tired, though.
But on to fiction!
Title: Media Overload
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
My whole body is a Gift to you lucky people! Come inside and see what I have!
No! Come to the Motel! Rest your tired feet!
Keep your eyes open, the Elements of nature beckon to you!
Shut up all you plebs! Can’t you see my smeyes? Can’t you fleshy folk down below see my beautiful orchestrated Photoshopped smeyes?
The little girl clamped her ears closed.
“What’s wrong, honey?” her mom asked.
“All these signs are too loud mom,” the girl said.
“Well, let’s go inside one of the stores. It’ll be quieter in there.”
“No! That’s what they want!”
It is time for bed. After listening to Ben Kingsley’s “O Mistress Mine” for the umpteenth (squared) time. Am I high-cultured yet? Can I read modernism now without having my brain spool out of my brain?
No. The answer is no.
Good luck, you brave writer folk!