Although I recently posted the short story "The Thing In My Shoe", I haven't genuinely written a short story in a little while.  "Shoe" was started months upon months ago and I only wrote the last few paragraphs in order to post it at the end of October.

I say that to say this: inspiration has struck.

Obsquatch pops in every now and then to re-read one of the earlier shorts I wrote and always comments positively on it.  There's a gravity in the story ("The Last Run") that's pretty much unmatched in anything else I've written.  Today, I have been inspired to write a new short story that will surely challenge the depths to which the Last Run has explored.

Who can we thank for this madness?  Who else?  Find out after the break!

No, don't be silly--it's not GOD.  Remember: conflict begets creativity.  And there is no greater birther of conflict--through nothing short of sheer stupidity--than my own brother.

Despite the tomes I have written in the past, discretion and decorum have been the name of the game--publicly, at least--when it came to the death of my father and the conflict that my elder sibling insisted upon spawning.  Since he has followed through with his tendency to "be the first", I have absolutely no qualms whatsoever about delving deep into the heart of this conflict and using it as the source material for an upcoming short story.

And since this is coming on the eve of the first Thanksgiving after our father's (and our mother's husband's) death and Jason has made such a concerted effort NOT to be around for this holiday, I can think of no better thing to offer my own personal thanksgiving for than my older sibling's incessant pursuit of inconsiderate behavior that lacks any semblance of intelligence or compassion, for without this behavior, such gloriously creative conflict would never be born.

Ain't it good to let it all hang out?