I can't think of a freakin' opening line for a possible short story (I think I may have a plot, if it stays short). As with other "short stories" I've done in my 'verse, it was part of the larger whole, but not important to the main story, so pulled out to stand by itself. I hope.
The cat who lives in our yard but never lets anyone near him (I call him "Smudge," because he's grey and just a little smudge of a thing) has gotten to where he doesn't run away when I walk by, but just watches me warily. I felt compelled to put out a small bowl of water for him and his companions, since it's so hot outside. He hissed at me, but stayed in the garden in his shady spot, glaring at me for daring to enter his space. Ho. Cats.
Haven't had a review to do in months, now suddenly have a bunch coming up. Finished Roger Wallace's "It's About Time" today (and it is - five years since his last disc), will be doing the Boxmasters and Bellamy Brothers next week, then Ricky Skaggs and Billy Bob Thornton's most recent release (it's been out a few months, but I just discovered it). Famine to feast. Whew.
I meant to do many things today and didn't do a single one of them (other than finish that review).
Back to staring at a blank screen waiting for inspiration to strike.