For the first time in a very long while I awoke into the realm of BST without feeling like someone had removed the top of my skull in the depths of night and taken a particularly large and particularly foul shit right on top of my brain. This is a novelty beyond words. Ordinarily my body reacts to this slight disruption of its diurnal rhythms throwing what back home they call “a massive wobbly.” First think on Sunday morning I woke up as hale and hearty as I have ever been and promptly wrote eight hundred words in less than an hour. This has filled me with a dark and brooding suspicion. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. To drop like an asteroid thundering out of high orbit. Like an asteroid who’s been hitting the booze a bit too much and now, in the throes of an alcoholic stupor, thinks that Earth isn’t so great, that it could probably take that smug bastard. Swanning about with its “atmosphere” like it owns the whole solar system. I fully expect to wake up in a few days and no longer feel human. To feel more like a crude and badly constructed simulacrum of a man-shaped thing. Admittedly I am a crude and badly constructed simulacrum of a man-shaped thing, but I don’t like to be reminded about it.
Anyway, short stories…
So once again I didn’t get any writing done on this month’s wordascope until the start of last week, when I sketched out a vague, nebulous outline before finally finishing it all off in a blind panic the night before the “deadline.” Subsequently I am (as ever) not entirely satisfied with it. It feels a little rough and unpolished and, in my mind at least, does not do justice to my original ideas. This is of course made worse by the fact that it is a sequel of sorts. The first part of which I put a lot more time and effort into. Poor Wet Geoff, I have wronged her. Admittedly it’s not awful, it’s just not as good as it perhaps could have been.
We’ve got three wordascopes this month. Two of the wordascopes written by my fellow pictonauts are quite black in tone, a little dark, a little grim. These are good things. Read away:
James Clayton – Black Bella Donna
A-Scribe to Describe – Wages of Sin
The Mick – I take another walk
Remember to check back tomorrow for the start of April’s Pictonaut Challenge.