GONE! My work all gone, and all I have to show for it is this self-deprecating blog post and the pocket lint I retrieved from my pocket instead of my story notes. I could recall only the title, those words forever engrained onto my skull, and a sentence that began, "As he stared into the bear's eyes, convinced that this creature was convinced of his edibility, Jesus raised the basketball..."
The rest is fog, indiscernible and maddening.
I tried ... oh, how I tried to rekindle that initial creative spark, but I had only ash, the remains of what was once a fire, detectable from galaxies separated by light years.
Here's a picture of my cat in a tie. I hope it eases the pain if such a thing is possible.
"Jesus Shuttlesworth liked to play basketball. His dadDenzelJake ... well, he is going to end up being a metaphor for God in this story. Because Jesus ... his name is Jesus. That's the joke. He Got Game might be, just might be, an outdated reference, but uh, we're off track. I'm off track. Jesus Shuttlesworth liked to play basketball. There was the dribbling. He was fond of the dribbling, even fonder of the shooting and the passing. The swoosh of the net was the soundtrack ... not the soundtrack .. . the swoosh of the net was like the rattling of a train; he could feel it in his bones. No, he could feel it in his heart. no no no he couldn't feel it. It felt him.
damn it"
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