Being close to midnight on Halloween (I promised myself I would do something cool, I miss it), I decided to resurrect (spooooky!) a dead and buried draft that went nowheres quick.
In the spirit of the season, what follows is shamelessly discombobulated and
PS Ever catch yourself accidentally getting the spelling right on something you thought sure you wouldn’t, and then, just to make sure the spellchecker was working, went and switched a letter to see if the red bar thing would show up?
He thought he had previously drafted something called I Owe Ewes, because of the wordplay factor and not because he had anything in particular to write about Owing – Ewes in particular.
He had again thought to use the same title for a blog post – I Owe Ewes – for some other reason, but also mostly for the wordplay factor, which was considerably somewhat present, which he enjoyed, perhaps too much, you or some others might say. (You might)
He finally realized it was Next To Midnight, Halloween – and the blog post he had once wrote and then failed to send, it had come around and back again, the title returning to mind somewhat on its own accord; its second spooky deadline drawing close… and he looked at his watch, now part of his screen: 11:33. Not now much time. He intended, symbolically, to be comfortably asleep by midnight this time [this I can assure you did not in fact happen], and not feeding himself headfirst through a tire-swing, to boost his own confidence (somehow), as he had done that previous time he chose to write about it afterwards.
Egad! 11:40 now, and all because of a few too many more un-needed and very fully unnecessary (and sometimes poorly-hyphenated) words to describe things… well, you know. Don’t you. [and he was still editing this part at 11:57! Egad, again!]
Something about owing. Something about responsibility, reciprocation… acknowledgement. The idea of paying it forward, or back, or spreading it around. And then the pun – the Ewe. What did he know about ewes? Something about Google being something he hadn’t had when he was in school. Progress, Hope, Humanity. And Cut, he thought or thunk. Slam dunk.
But no, he was tired instead, he wanted to turn out the lights on this wonderfully windy evening in Autumn. 17 minutes remaining. Wrap it up…
So he does, and then
he goes, finds the post
once wrote and sent before
and then again he adds some more
all at once for buying time and giving in
he caps it off, a false-y bottom and new begin
Continued by my own just-previous thing, this.
Wherein we ever so briefly discuss privilege, responsibilities; encumbering guilt, and how little Mike knows about ewes.
1 week draft, 1 week edit