I’ve struggled too much trying to write my second novel. I think I’m going to honor my yearning and vision inside of me and start writing a different kind of novel. It’s a different kind of idea I’ve had rummaging around my brain for some time. The idea is nothing new, but I’m sick of struggling and just want to write. I suppose my second novel idea will then become my third novel idea when I get more focused in wanting to write it and the right mindset in order to write it. I’m bouncing all over the place in some ways with my mind, but unable to focus with much of anything in front of me. This will be a challenge and delight as I don’t really care all that much if it makes sense or not (within reason). That is what my rewrite is for and for the first time I just want to write without thinking and say to hell with the rest. What is below is going to be another beginning paragraph I might and might not use. I had a few weird dreams again, with and without the help of melatonin, and this flash fiction was some of the subject matter.
It’s a long way down to something, everything, and nothing all at once. I couldn’t help but wonder who had stood in the same spot my feet were now standing. My shoes were too tight on my toes. I was convinced my shoes had shrunk when I washed them, but I hadn’t dried them in the dryer. I had let them air dry. It’s the best thing for your clothes or shoes. There was time later to ponder why my body wasn’t in sync with my brain.
In front of me was a case I needed to solve and one that made me ask myself, under my breath, whether I really was stupidly naïve or lost on my path for too long. The problem facing me was my own self. I was too far deep into my own psyche to notice my own hand hitting my face. It wasn’t the guy closest to me approaching I should’ve been paying attention to, but the guy five behind him, the one with a receding hairline but surprisingly appearing to have a full head of hair. It might’ve been his accent because he clearly wasn’t around these parts. He wasn’t born here. He definitely didn’t grow up here. He didn’t have the courtesy and kindness one should possess such as myself.
I don’t tout myself to be an angel by any means, not even a fallen one, and then find myself to take on characteristics and aspects not resembling anything human. I am a human in all respects, and the perfect solution to see this guy again was entice him with not candy but something much more valuable. This was my chance to give him a chance. He didn’t need to swallow another bitter pill to be a better person. He only needed to listen to me and take a risk.
I had taken too much time browsing the options in the vending machine. Now an attractive female was standing behind me, acting as if she was the sole gatekeeper to an invisible gate in front of the machine. Not giving it much thought, I removed the coins I had exchanged in the front somewhere, stuck them into the machine, and pushed what I thought I wanted. He was going to come around for me, somewhere and somehow because that is what I was made for, and no one was going to tell me otherwise.