A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-And-One-Hundred-And-Seventy-Eight

I wrote another of those stories that kind of begins with me thinking about the fact that I don't know what to write and building a story out of that in some way.  In many cases it is a story that serves as a kind of excuse for why I didn't write, but the one tonight was a bit different than that, but it still began with the admission that I was trying and failing to write a story.  I think it is a fun story, and I feel like I did a good job overall, but I worry that the ending might not quite work, even though I feel it is a kind of perfect ending, if I am honest.  I think there is just some little tiny twist to it that would make it really shine, but at present I am not certain what that needs to be.  I'll keep thinking until I figure out what is missing, or I decide I like it the way it is right now after all.

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