story ideas
something crawls out through the gap under the shower curtain.
joly and bossuet and musichetta get together because of kinky catharsis of everybody's feelings about bossuet getting hurt all the time.
inside bill's brain: nonlinear diary novel
grumpy researchers benignly haunted by the poltergeists of unsolved problems
On a grassy plain, where trees hug the horizon, an unlucky child goes looking in the dark sooty places of the twilight, and finds harm.
A fairytale: two lovers meet, and cry for a week, without stopping, into their pillows as they sleep, salting their meals as they eat. Still weeping, they marry. The marriage bed becomes soaked, as if left out in the rain. And once they slept that night, the tears stopped, and when they woke up the next morning they had cried out all the sadness of seventeen years and felt perfectly happy from then until the end of their days. Hopeful lovers will leave their bedroom windows open, that lovers might bless their bed with rain; and a marriage bed might, by the romantic or the very old, be blessed with saltwater.
romantic cruise at the end of the world
Dark Water writing exercise from Screenwriting for the Soul
Get to it, Sahiti, it's gonna be gorgeous.
Story of a shotgun marriage born of a love confession made after a suicide attempt caused by years of trauma, where the couple ends up happy because love actually, step by painful step, conquers all.
written to begin from shortly after the marriage in question
Story daydream: Inside bill's brain
For instance as I'm writing this now there is banging on my door for me to come get my food and prove I'm still alive to my keepers, but as I'm writing this, well, it's fifteen days before that, fifteen days and a night.
And you might not think that's interesting, but that's because you're boring. Who even am I? Why aren't you asking yourself that question? These words have been hijacked to make it seem as though there is an I that is talking to a you, and I could use it to make your brain do anything. Don't you mistrust me? I'm fucking with your ability to anthropomorphize by hacking the illocutionary weight that you will automatically accord these words, the framing that I've set up that you have got to now think within. All I have to do for you to assume I'm a person - a human - a being with intent that maps closely enough to yours that your puny little brain can model it it the first place - is use that word, I. The best you can do is mistrust me, and even then, you probably would say that I could be anybody - when really you have to worry that I could be anything.