Today the temperature in Philly rose to a balmy 22 Farenhiet. And in the morning when it was 9 degrees, there was a cheery layer of ice on my car. Grrrr. Pardon me, Brrrr.
People with broken heaters called all day. Not much we could do there but refer them to the Heater Hotline, which I'm sure was doing a blockbuster business. I had clients call because they had no food so I ran out boxes of emergency food and blankets, for good measure. It was an exciting, cold, cold, fucking cold day.
Rick called as I got home. He was on his way to clean up a gangland style triple homicide but wanted to get my mailing address first. I said, "No one has ever quite said that to me before. Thank you."
Checked out Rant Your Writing to peek in on the status of my short story, Tempus Fugit, only to see that 15 people have viewed it but not one of them could be bothered to write anything. What's up with that? Is it perfect? Must be. That's the only conclusion I can draw.
To sum: my heater is working *knock wood*, there's plenty of food in my pantry, and Andy and I are getting something in the mail from Rick, and Rate Your Writing can't actually be bothered to rate my writing.
2 comments:
I read your short story, Tempus Fugit. I thought it was really cool, though I agree with the reviewer that it was a little fast at the beginning. We never get to find out what the emergency was all about. I did notice the subtle(!) references to Star Trek... and what was with the totally gratituous lake thing with Liam??
Overall v cool. I wonder if they'll make it a short film?
Yeah, the swimming scene was gratuitious. I'm blushing with shame.
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