This morning as I was ladling out breakfast,* Tam was bemoaning that she "...needed to turn out 500 words for Z_____† today," and I remarked, with my usual sensitivity and tact, "Aw, you can do that without even sweating blood."‡
And now here I am, mind as blank as a fresh snowfall before dawn. That'll learn me to crack wise! Or not.
* French Toast. This does not normally call for a ladle, even here at Roseholme Cottage, but some mornings...!
† Z_____? Yes. "X_____"is clearly useless here as a synonym for "J. Random Contextually-Defined Placeholder Name Instead Of A Real One That Wouldn't Mean Anything To Most Readers Anyway" and I can hardly be expected to spell it out except for this once, so: Z_____. There's only one problem, that readers may confuse it with "Z," the nickname of Owen Zastava Pitts, whom it ain't and who slays other sorts of monsters in another sort of world. So that's settled.
‡ Based on the well-known principle that states, "Writing is easy. All you have to do is stare at a blank page until your eyes bleed."
He Worked On A Starship
2 months ago