Last night I had planned to pick up where I left of with yesterday’s writing. I refrained from posting that due to its brevity and incompleteness. With a two-day posting I could conceal the meager effort involved. I didn’t pick that up and now I’m admitting to its low quality so I’ve saved nothing. How’s that for 1000 Days transparency?
Overnight, or this morning since I’m unlikely to have remembered anything from last night following sleep, I precipitated an image of a bowl of liquid draped with a cloth sitting on a simple table or pedestal and surrounded by figures of learning. Presumably this image set the scene for some pending magic ritual.
So, cloth on bowl with liquid on a table surrounded by characters wouldn’t initially seem troublesome to write. Except it is in two ways: first–because this is the order I ran into the troubles–is that I’m sure this reflects some real world scenario and quality obliges me to find the true names of such objects; second, I can’t immediately uncover any conflict in the setting. I don’t have the words and even if I did I would know which direction to steer them.
I have a bottle of vodka chilling in the freezer–it’s been there for weeks. Vodka is the primary ingredient for White Russians, Black Russians, and Colorado Bulldogs (I think). There are other ingredients. I may have them, but I doubt it. I’m stalled in my indulgences for lack of knowing. But unlike my trouble with words this morning this vodka trouble is mitigated with a simple search on the Internet. There is an answer and it need only be found.
Anyway, I had something there and eight interruptions from kids pretty much dissolved what ever tenuous hold I had on that.
Word count: 304