Saturday, June 28, 2008

It was a dark and stormy night...


The task was to write a scene in which Evil Editor shows up at your door on a dark and stormy night.



I slogged through the muck and the torrents of sheets of rain like an ox plowing a Cambodian rice paddy, drawn to the only light I'd seen since I abandoned the DeLorean three miles back. Another half mile through a malodorous, mephitic hog farm and I was on the front porch, dripping like an ice sculpture in a sauna. I knocked.

The woman who answered seemed to recognize me, despite the fact that I looked like I'd just crawled through a cranberry bog. "Evil Editor!" she said. "I was just rereading your blog!"

"You have me at a loss," I told her.

"It's me! Your favorite minion!"

"Phoen?!"

"No, silly. Anon. Now come in and dry off. The guest room is clean. I'll get out my manuscript; I wrote it following all your guidelines. It's lit fic with sharks and zombies in chapter 14."

I turned on my heel and headed back the way I'd come. One night sleeping in a fetid mud pit with 200 reeking hogs wasn't going to kill me.

--Evil Editor