I was sitting on the couch, trying to write, when the ghost of Edgar Allen Poe showed up. The ghost of Poe said, “What are you writing, my friend?”
I said a story.
The ghost of Poe said, “How is it coming along?”
I said that it was okay, but not very interesting.
The ghost of Poe said, “A story is served best when basic. To add trills and thrills for the sake of interest calls attention to the writing. The reader will lose interest and you’ll have wasted both your times.”
I said okay.
When W. was President, I couldn’t take the stress and developed a butter habit. On one particularly difficult day I ate an entire stick of butter.
During the Obama years, I went to rehab, and within a month I was butter free.
Trump has been in office for three weeks, and this morning, so far, I have eaten 17 sticks of butter, and I’m off to the store to buy a crate of Land O’Lakes.
I was out for a walk in the park when I got tired, sat down on the ground, and hung my head.
Suddenly I felt enveloped by a mist. I looked up and saw that I was surrounded by a cloud. The cloud lifted up off the ground with me along. Soon we were all the way up in the sky. The cloud moved forward.
After a while the cloud stopped. I looked down and saw my car parked at the entrance of the park.
I said, “No, thanks, I’ll stay with you.”
The cloud carried me forward again.
God and I took a walk through the Sassafras forest of Tangiers. I talked in detail about how in my life I was frustrated with doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
God said, “Do you know what I call that?”
I said, “Insanity?”
God said, “No, entertainment.”
