Truth stranger than fiction?
Sep. 29th, 2004 03:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hwangoPrompted by recent conversations about NaNoWriMo, I was pondering possible story ideas while driving home tonight. Among them, I contemplated my old, old story idea that hinged on reality being more malleable than people suspect. This story would feature lots of Weird Crap happening to the protagonists, and they would gradually come to realize that they were subconsciously causing the Weird Crap to occur. Thinking along these lines led me to keep picturing strange ethereal monsters shambling across the highway in front of me.
A few minutes ago, I walked into my kitchen and stopped short, wondering for a moment if I had fallen asleep, gone insane, or perhaps that life was imitating art. That thing on the back of my chair can't really be there, can it?
A few minutes ago, I walked into my kitchen and stopped short, wondering for a moment if I had fallen asleep, gone insane, or perhaps that life was imitating art. That thing on the back of my chair can't really be there, can it?
