Pant pant

So, much to my surprise, I actually got my flashfiction story done and posted here, before the deadline.

And, see, what I really would like right now is to have about six weeks off, the way I've had the last several summers and won't this year, because the last few flashfictions I've done have essentially been little chunks and pieces of a big honkin' long thing that's started coming together in my head, the thing I've provisionally titled "Armando Vecchio," the one where Vecchio comes back wrong, and the problem is this is going to be a killer to try to write. Because really (as I said to somebody not long ago), what it needs to be is an honest-to-god horror story -- possession, doppelgangers, whole nine yards. And I have a lot of respect for the difficulty of the horror genre, and it's something I don't have much of any experience with. So, anyway--arrrgh. But I really, really, really want to do it.

And now I have to run off to lunch with my stepmother, drat.