Tick Box exercises #1

Elvis Costello sneered on the TV, and he felt his eyes sore and salty. The best of the day had slipped away, but hadn't been wasted, according to the three quarter ticked 'stuff to do' list, which was almost a triumph. Part of him almost felt like it might be worth framing it. Little by little, maybe that was what it was all about....little by little.

It was cold outside, the paint was peeling off of his walls. He ran his eyes down the list...and stopped on the second to last point.

Write a story.

Write a story! Write a story?

He picked his nose, shuvving the contents in his mouth, wiped those dry, tired eyes-and fingered the strange little scab behind his left ear, for a sec.

Then he retrieved his notebook from the floor, turned to a blank page-took the lid off his biro-and wrote:

a story

Job's a good'un.