I worked on a new short story today; the rewriting part of work so you'll have to excuse my big, fat UGH! How is it a story can start off so full of bitter promise and end up wandering the mucky shores of confusion? I have no idea where the story was headed now or what I was trying to say, other than by rereading the original MS that I wisely printed out (twice!) before mangling the electronic version, but that's part of the point of the rewrite...right? To cull the pointless words taking up space and clarify what's left into poetic prose?
Maybe something like that. Anyway, it's a gardening tale about lonliness and slugs. Not sure how those two come together (especially now!) but I know there's a story in there somewhere.