Well, my son the poet has done it again. In a phone conversation about the health of his niece, he threw in a zinger. He said he had written a poem a day for 41 days. Fine. But then he added that he had written a short story – a very short one – every day for 30 days just to see if he could. And he did. And darn it, I couldn’t let that go. I thought that if he could do it, so could I. What is wrong with me? Why can I not just walk away from this challenge, leave the gauntlet where it was thrown, and ignore his declarative statements. But no. Darn incentive, darn challenge, darn just a plain ol’ implied dare. So yesterday I just sat down and whipped up a short story. Now I’m thinking I need to write one today. Darn. And then there’s tomorrow – double darn.
