Several curious people, really it’s just one, asked me how or where the ideas came from. Thankfully, there’s no clear answer. When the trousers, mind, or weather conditions suit such things, the computer opens, a page appears, and it starts to flow. Wondrously weird, odd, and strange things abound. Try the new site promoting eBooks in the Stories to Tell Collection
Here’s a sample of what you may find here:
Horace was reminded of an old gag; all of his gags were old. Hey, where you bin where you wheeliebin? He was wheeling his about his garden. It was reasonably green. These things together, although natural, flowed into one’s senses like a slow-moving tide. The visual was rather calming, the flight of nature’s stained glass windows on wings was truly magnificent, while the odour, oddly tasteful.
Horace had tried to update a few things in his life, the house, the garden, the car and his place of work. Despite success in the first three, his place of work had gone to shit. The major upheaval was apparently over, the resulting smashed crockery status unable to be restored. It will now try to limp on, trying to cope. It won’t. This was normal, but he couldn’t really do so. He was hamstrung, maybe until he left the place. The exit interview would be in written form and rather direct. Horace was pretty good at direct. He thought so at least. The departure date was unclear.
Facebook had been a growing addiction, and Horace reluctantly accepted and enjoyed. Not much to do, just lots of binge watching Tv, binge watching memes, news and music as it sailed on by. His eyes were acting terribly strange from all the screen time and the super-fast scrolling. The images were racing up and down. Where you bin featured a fair bit. Horace was in serious trouble. An aspect of his Facebook pleasures had come back around and bitten his arse in a big way. His arse wasn’t big; the biting was. Like he did many times before he shared a meme/video, but this one created a super-sized reaction. Where you Bin
