I’m having some trouble letting go of the “Stars” daily excerpts, so here’s one last hurrah: the crazy nonsense garbage sentences I wrote before I fell asleep on my laptop! I’ve been combing these ugly babies out of my rough draft for three days now, but here are some of the best. (Profanity ahead)

- He could see was a delicately-rendered hydrangea from the bathroom, that they needed us to guard of them.
- I know the kinds of noises my brother makes. When they make those.
- Yasha tried to clearly want to
- Maybe Shiori painted this, or maybe doesn’t, who fucking knows
- No, really, the fuck with the constellations.
- “Do you want some alchemist’s shit? They were selling alchemists’ shit out of bowls. One spoonful is enough for one season, and it will get darker or lighter depending on the weather! But it stays the same color forever once its dried.” *
- What the fuck is going on with Lumis’s timeline?
- Oh no
- Shiori hit her in the face with a sheet. Repeatedly.
*(“Shit” supposed to be “paint.” Couldn’t read own handwriting. Made do. Made self laugh in the morning.)
Well, you’re all very welcome. Thank you again to everyone who followed the daily Nano excerpts, and remember: all good writing is chiseled from shit. I also noticed I missed an opportunity with my “Journeys” microprompt set–that was actually the hundredth post I’ve stuffed into this machine. Huh. I owe you for putting up with me this long!
Just jumble them all together and call it avant garde poetry. Put a beret on your head, get a hand drum, take random but deliberate pauses. Make it performance art. Busk in the street. Fuck constellations you know what it means when the sound is.
Curses. What an opportunity I’ve missed. The next good, illegal yard sale I see, I’ll be sure to get me a hand drum.