A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Thirty-Five

Tonight's effort feels as if it fell between last night and the night or two before it.  I was feeling rather stuck, with no real sense of what to write, so I decided to try and write something that drew from that sense of being stuck and not being certain what to do with the work.  I've tried this tactic before, as I often will write poems that begin with an acknowledgement that I am stuck and move from that into whatever else, but I hadn't been finding it as helpful when writing flash fiction.  Tonight, though, I feel like I used the lesson that I learned last night by taking elements that are real and twisting them to create something new and a bit different. 

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