Half-baked Word Hors D'oeuvres That I've Written Which Have Gone Nowhere. (Yet.)
I sleep, watch TV, work and generally live 24/7 with my iPad next to me like a modern moleskin. When I get an idea, I scribble it down, in hopes that it might grow into something worthwhile. This is my list of half-baked word hors d'oeuvres: lines that carry a flavor but are not meant to be filling. Maybe someday they will be a story.
- •He curled up against the salt-encrusted walls of creative ennui.
- •I drank from the fountain of her debauchery to slack my prurient thirst for consumption.
- •Innocence is poetry without knowledge, and grace without experience.
- •I never knew her, but we frolicked in each other's dreams like old friends.
- •She relaxed under his affections like dappled sunshine under a summer tree, and he fed her his love from his roots.
- •Horror is the familiar reflection of repressed delectation made real.
- •Fear is the echo of your scream made at birth.