For some weird ass reason that I can’t even begin to fathom, all day I have been writing stupid little throwaway stories. Not prose poetry exactly, more like the micro-narratives of Ben Loory or Alex Epstein, with a little Lydia Davis thrown in for good measure. Except that those writers are pretty good at these things and I’m just terrible.
Due to their brevity, stories of this sort often lack traditional narrative devices. Things like characters, plot, dialogue, quality, good sense, decency - you know - stuff like that. But who needs all that stuff anyway? Not us.
All that being said though, I genuinely had fun writing them throughout the day while I should have been doing more important things.
The day’s haul is all below. Enjoy!
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