Short story perfection

 

We are in an interesting weather pattern right now one of those summer patterns where the mornings are somewhat cloudy then the clouds clear away followed by dark, black, unrelenting Cloud masses that hang in the sky like like auto mechanics working on your transportation. You never know how menacing the bill will be until it's finally done. These black billowing clouds are waiting for something maybe not today maybe tomorrow or the day after probably in the afternoon or early evening when they finally release there pent up anger, moisture and frustration at the poor souls living out the ground. Anyway that's how I felt today with an evening meeting with my friend Lori. I met her after her work at 4:30 at the regular little restaurant not far from my apartment complex. The sky was dark in the west as I rolled up to the restaurant I wasn't sure if the heavens would open up as we were visiting inside the restaurant or maybe when we left. As far as I know, nobody got wet at least I know I did not. After we had our conversation I went straight home and waited. So far nothing's happened but the clouds are still out there and I would not be surprised but sometime later tonight the clouds open up and the lightning flashes and the thunder roars.

The best part about having lunch with Lori is that she is a total optimist and always seems to say exactly what you want to hear. Lori and I are both writers or we want to be. Actually Lori could probably pull it off better than most a lot better than I. I would like to be a writer ideally a Paperback Writer not just because I think it's one of the best songs The Beatles ever did but because it sums up in a few words how I feel about what I'd like to write. I would like to write the kind of trash that fills a paperback novel. Not the Great American novel, not the Great American play or even movie or piece of prose or poetry though I do kind of like the Poetry part. But just the paperback novel open quotes took me years to right where you take a look close quotes. I used to have this vision of myself sitting over an old Royal typewriter hammering out the words. I don't think I could ever do that I wish that I could but I just don't have the skills I don't think. As you know I'm currently reading the newest Stephen King offering a book of short stories. This is certainly tickled my writing fantasy of why can't I write short stories? It should be easier much easier than a novel but I just can't figure out how to end the short stories. If I were wise I would sit in the class that teaches the short story and become proficient at this short piece of writing. Who knows maybe I'll get fired up to the point where I'll start doing that, exactly that hammering out interesting little pieces then ending them abruptly and calling them short story even though it's not too fulfilling a rewarding to come to literary and that quickly. I don't know I wish I had the years to start over to learn how to write the perfect short story