Update (as of about two minutes ago): It appears as though I have missed the deadline after all! Now the omnipotent frowning sky judge will make me step across the Bare-Foot-Lego-Mile tomorrow. If I spontaneously die and never write again, that’s why.
Or I’m just doing a Lorequest.
By the skin of my teethy teethy teeth do I manage to get this Five Sentence Fiction in. In to where? I don’t know. My table of contents, probably. It’s not like I have some omniscient, ever-frowning judge looking down on me and tutting every time I’m late.
No, nothing like that. I swear (save me).
Anyway, I’m not going to faff around this time, let’s get right into it. And just nevermind that small section just above this one. That’s just faffery. Faffery I am determined to never do.
Word of Inspiration: Fresh
Word Count: 67
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Title: Starting Fresh
This is the time, my time, my time to start fresh all over again. I can feel the energy of a new day surging into me, it makes me want to run around the room, flailing my arms like a maniac. But then they might institutionalize me, which is something I’d like to avoid.
Why is one week later already?
Ironically, freshness smells a lot like decay.
Wow, that one was really short. Oh well, I’m just happy I got something out at all, let alone something that’s tongue-in-cheek and relatively fun to read (mostly because it’s short and painless). Oh and a bit of an update, which should logically go into the News and Updates section but… meh, is that I’m back at college now. Meaning I’m going to be tackling avant-garde fiction and the dreaded Infantile Joust, written by Davy Foster-Home (Jones) Wall-Ace.
This is either going to be the best semester ever or one of the worst.
Good luck, you brave writer folk!