A serious 8-page story got away from me last night. It decided it wanted to be much longer -- while saying the same thing -- but funny.
Old friends are going to show up, as Pfirsich's giddy delight in being invincible pisses off his new friends and frightens his old ones.
I have no idea where this is going. It's like the good old days, getting yanked around by my characters.
S/M for the working writer.
(This may be partially due to the freshly-made chocolates Dan brought home. Fresh, milky caramel centers and dark chocolate shells somehow brittle, yet smooth and powdery. I froze them, and am allowed one a day.... I do adore me chockies froze.)