I thought I’d try something where I randomly write something and then keep doing it or continuing where I left off. I haven’t been writing anything lately. There’s not much to say except I took a week off on vacation and did absolutely nothing except eating, sleeping, and watching TV. I did put together a puzzle that should have been marked as a challenge puzzle. Here is what I wrote as I get back to work tomorrow and focus on my outside of work routine too. I did it once before and will have to do it again. Here is what I wrote.
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The pickles on the counter were getting limp as each minute passed. Since pickles don’t have feelings, they didn’t know they were cut in half and then quartered. If there was any pickle blood, there was nothing to see by the party people gossiping and chatting next to the table edge. Select thoughts crossed the minds of many others bored at whatever they were doing. This did not matter. A world miles away in a place neither dark nor light was a woman that had not combed her hair. The tiny objects in her hand dug into her skin. She would look at her indents and cry for no reason. Her tears flowed from a volcano. The lava burned her cheeks if she thought about this too long.
As hard as she tried to think positive thoughts and remember uplifting past experiences, her mind kept going to the darkness. She knew she had to connect with a person by the name of Sturgeon like the fish in the deep waters of lakes and rivers. She did not know if this person was male, female, or something else. She buried the possibilities in her search this person. When she finally found him, he told her how crazy it was for one inaction can change the way an outcome will turn. The choice made had to be small so people would not take notice.
The fact remained limp pickles stop serving its purpose. They are thrown into the garbage and further thrown into a dumpster, so no one smells the stink. A few important noses will make sure the dried tears are cleansed. Cheap tissue paper has no place here and a bucket full of dirt and worms is a delight for fishing crazies. If touching worms leads to terrible outcomes and Sturgeon says whether dill or sweet pickles, they all belong in the garbage disposal. She was concerned about the empty glass jars because that was where the answers should be found.
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