The other night, the writing bug really hit me. You know, when that perfect idea bounces around in your skull all day, getting louder and louder, until you absolutely must sit down and get the thoughts flowing out onto the keyboard before they permanently damage your brain.
I was completely enmeshed by subject-verb agreement when I first noticed the tickle on my foot. It was easy to ignore. I had a plot to move forward, people! No time for distractions. Besides, it was probably just the airflow from the fan fluttering in my toe hair. (What an attractive visual image! You're welcome.)
The tickle turned to prickly but I was getting to the shocking reveal and there was no stopping me now! My fingers were smoking on the keys as I wiggled my big toe just a little. As the prick becomes a pinch, I'm starting to lose focus. My already running imagination starts scripting the possible scenario for my foot bother (ya know, because I gots me some o' tha crazies when it comes to "what ifs"). Perhaps it is an ingrown hair forming in protest to the afternoon spent in ugly crocs? Kids are in bed so surely there's no little person attempting to pluck the long strands from my toe knuckle. I'm barefoot but I'm in the house so it can't possibly be a poisonous snake that has somehow mistaken this for a hairy little mouse meal. What if the dastardly house gnomes have armed themselves with tiny pick axes, intent on stealing the bones in my foot, carving and polishing them, then selling the finished pieces in their highly lucrative tourist trade?
Finally, I wrap the scene. The last period barely strikes the screen before I'm leaning over to examine my foot. This is where I nearly throw my laptop into the next room in a effort to stand faster.
Attached to my big toe is a very large earwig. Ewwwww!
I hate those things! They're so creepy, with their pinchy little bums and the slithering way they move. And this one was huge! Nearly the size of my toe! Okay, that's just the adrenaline talking. It wasn't as big as that. More like the size of a quarter. Or perhaps a large penny...that's been folded into thirds lengthwise. Alright, alright...it was a normal size. But STILL! The bugger hurt. (Heheheheh...see what I did there?)
I spent the rest of the evening with one eye searching for split modifiers and the other for slinking insects. One must protect one's valuable and sought-after foot bones in case the retirement portfolio doesn't work out.
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