Here’s my latest effort for this ongoing series. I have an indefinite amount of these I can pour out, but I’m beginning to think about stopping after I write twenty. There is over half a dozen of these in the pipeline, so people would have to stop sending me these. That’s another way to put a stop to it, I suppose.
Not that I’d want to do that. Even though forcing myself to write every day to combat the aggressive form of writer’s block that afflicted me for weeks is the right thing to do, it’s also been stressful. But who cares, right? Life is stressful. Getting up in the morning has the potential to be stressful, as is staying in bed. Managing my stress levels has nothing to do with writing. Anyway.
I’d also love to make my own pile of clothes, but torn to shreds because of growth. As soon as I find a tear-apart machine that can do the deed, I’ll start that series… with my own clothes, of course. I’d never expect anyone to destroy a perfectly good set of garments merely so I might write a naughty story.
What would I shred? Jeans. Definitely jeans, undergarments, a purple t-shirt, and gorgeous shoes. And somewhere on that pile, my glasses, tiny and abandoned. And over it all, a looming shadow made of curves larger than life. Yes. I love it! If anyone has any idea on how best to disintegrate clothes in such a manner, let me know! I’ll get around to that series early next year, but in the meantime, here’s this.