It’s getting on for 11 pm on the last day of July. You guys, where did the time go?!
Tonight I was texting my friend and plotting things as I am wont to do, muttering dark things about The Perils of Writing Because You Can’t Even Read a Text Without Looking For Subtext, Sarah.
Or is that just me? Good grief, all those capitals. I’d take them out, but maybe not. I took ten minutes out of the night to write down 31 writing prompts, inspired despite my sore throat, and so.
In a few minutes I’m going to add a child page to the Flash Fiction July, because this year I’m all about Flash Fiction August. I think I told you about this the other day? I’m going to write 31 stories in the month (sodding ambitious too, I haven’t written a proper flash fiction in weeks) and post the prompts for anyone who wants to follow along.
Anyway, I know it’s a bit inconsistent, which is why I’ve decided to flip between them. 2018, July. 2019, August. And so on, and so forth. I’m finicky like that, I guess because I can.
I’m off to add that page now, so cross your fingers for me that HTML behaves.