One day, an old man cheerfully pushed a wheelbarrow of manure down the bumpy road that led towards his house.
Two brothers roasted marshmallows over a stove, or at least they tried to.
Since I've been struggling to fully delve into writing a new novel, here is my back-up plan: a short story. In fact, based on the advice of an author I love, I'd set out to write one short story a week about three weeks ago. That hasn't happened. However, yesterday, after taking my dog for a walk on the beach, and after my daughter's work ended over an hour late, I forced myself to write: my goal was to scratch out a short story on paper, no matter how terrible it was. And I had a half hour to do it...read at your own risk.