Prologue/Sickness

This isn't really a short story, it's kind of, just, well, crap. I'm writing short stories as a senior project, and this was the first thing I wrote, to kind of get me in a working mode. It didn't really work out.

Written in May, 2006.
A little less than half a page, single-spaced, in Word.


Prologue/Sickness

You wake up on the fifth morning of being sick, and you know you have to work. Well, not yet. First, you have to go to the doctor’s office. Which takes two hours. Then the supermarket for some lunch. Then home, to procrastinate and check email.

Time’s up, though. Now you have to work. You’ve been looking forward to these two weeks for a while; a chance to “take a break!” while also “accomplishing things” you’ve “always wanted to do!” The cold’s been the excuse for the past few days, but now, with antibiotics cleaning out your insides, you have enough energy to work.

But you can’t.

Writer’s block? Laziness? Procrastination?

Maybe you’re just a bad writer?

Well, at least you’re getting something done here. Right? Maybe? No. You’re doing the work of so many not-so-talented authors before you, attempting to write about your attempts to write, not so cleverly covering up your complete lack of anything worthwhile to write about.

Shit. I better start doing some real work…