The layers of butter and flour stared at Frank, daring him to resist their crunchy flaky goodness. He knew taking one bite would be the end of him. Instead, he ate the whole thing. Frank was in for a few rounds on his porcelain throne, but damn it was good.
“Break the fourth wall in your life,” Sam said. “Go out and talk to those that are watching you. Engage them. Learn something more about your life and world.”
“That sound like great advice,” Bert said.
Bert turns to you. “So what about it, reader? What can you tell me?”
So many words to juggle, but tonight I don’t have the dexterity to do so. I am closing my circus in hopes that tomorrow the show can go on. If not, I know of some great friends who will help me set the fires and collect the insurance. True dat!
Empty beer bottles spun, mesmerizing Freda. She wondered if there was some sort of astrological significance to their motions as they all slowed down and stopped pointing in different directions. She laughed, thinking how that used to signify who to kiss. Now it just signified how absolutely drunk she was.
A lot of writing advice connotes I should be willing to kill my darlings. Okay, they were right. It made my writing more gritty and realistic. The problem now isn’t how to make what I put on the page more lifelike, but where am I going to bury the bodies?
Elsa looked at the product of her chemistry degree and smiled. The van was loaded and ready to go. They were all babbling about black lives matter, or blue lives matter. She knew better. No lives matter really. She would show them all. She got inside and turned the key.