Dinosaurs and Sushi Bars

NaNoWriMo, day 21,537,832.

So tired. The overhead lights beat down on my head. The sofa cushion has permanently taken on the shape of my ass.

The words have dried up. I’m at the climax scene. I have to kill someone I love, and my heart is breaking. I don’t want to go on.

Thanksgiving is almost here. I don’t have to cook. I made reservations. But I still must clean. They’re coming here afterward. I can’t let my family know that we live like this.

I write a few words. I hunt down all the moldy things in the fridge. I scrub the crumbs and coffee stains off the counters.

I need to write the words, but we also need food. The sound of my own voice is sharp, and I cackle maniacally at something the cashier says. She and the bagger exchange worried looks. I hope what she said was funny. I’ve already forgotten what it was.

I have an idea for another story. I could skip over this monstrosity and work on something new, right?

I have a new kitten. She’s very sweet and loving. My leg looks like it’s been through a meat grinder. Because she loves me so.

I’m tired. My white board is almost empty. Only a few index cards left. Maybe it’s not too late to save my beloved character. Why does anyone have to die?

The ice cream is all gone. I ate it. Sorry.

Alfalfa sprouts.