The Questionable Antics of My Writer Wife: part 4

It was Sunday afternoon and I was carrying a load of laundry into our bedroom. I started folding when I saw Amy slouching over her desk with her hands in her hair staring at her computer. Almost instantly I thought, “This will be interesting.” So I went over and asked her “What are you working on?”

“I don’t remember.” She said.Confused and befuddled, I asked, “How can you not remember what your story is about?”

“Okay. No, what I meant was, I remember the subject, I just- I can’t understand my outline.” I looked over her shoulder and the outline read as follows:

  • The guy
  • The woman
  • The team
  • The building

I don’t have any possible clue as to what she was trying to write about. So I asked her and she said, “Me of the past thought it was good enough at the time.


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