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So, my little M.N.P. (look back at Part 1 if you have no idea what I’m talking about) is steaming along rather decently even though it’s finals week here and I’m a lot less stressed than I probably should be. That’s usually a sign of impending doom but I’m just going to shelve that for now and talk more about people eating/burning books.
Also, brace yourselves, I think this story might be getting a plot eventually. There are whispers of it in this post.
Word of Inspiration: Trust
Word Count: 90
Genre: Surrealist Fiction
Title: The Crossing
A book-muncher and a page-burner met each other in the city one day, at the corner of Dickenson Way and Prometheus Street.
They stared at each other, eyes poking and prodding and clinically dissecting all they could with invisible hands.
One offered their hand to the other (nobody could say which one offered); their depressed brow was a silent cautionary growl.
“We have bigger problems than each other,” they said, “as I’m sure you’re well-aware. But we’re going to stop them, you’re going to have to trust me.”
I’m excited for tomorrow when a new Friday Ficitoneers comes out and I’ll have to start really struggling with finding a way to adapt a completely non-sequitur picture into part of a larger, growing narrative! That sounds a bit masochistic when I say it like that. But writing’s a bit masochistic, really. Why else would we create such loveable characters and then subject them to all manner of horrors, death, and family reunions?
Good luck, you brave writer folk!