Forced Fiction in 58

I say forced, because I am feeling a bit under the weather and I've got that whole hibernation thing going on (and thank you to the people who said they actually learned something about bears).
It's one of those days where my body's alarm clock kicked in at 4:30 (as in ante meridiem, or real freaking early) and my brain struggled in his haze to get up and write something really top-notch.
Two problems:
1. I don't feel like it.
2. I'm having to write on a borrowed PC right now, and I think it's really cramping my style.

So, what must I do in these extreme circumstances?
As Ms. Snarky Pants would say, "Harden the fuck up!"

So I challenged myself to some Fiction in 58. One with no past idea. I sat down with a cup of coffee and snagged an idea out of wherever my ideas are stored and ran with it.
(Of course, then you have to cut-and-paste and edit all the way down to 58 words, by christ. And that's tough; this thing ended at 69 words first go-round.)

And here it is. Feel free to tell me it's shit, 'cause today, it's not going to bother me (I'm already sore from a bad haircut I got on Monday and that's finally got my attention anyway):

Social Situations
He thinks of himself as self-conscious.
The deformity too grand.
At parties, where invites are steady, he moves in corners, shadows. He lets people unwind, grow anesthetized to detail. Only then does he speak.
What has this mash of DNA done to his life?
People talk of his wit, his humor.
Without a mention of his twisted limbs.


Large Marge said...

Well done for a sicky-poo.

Anonymous said...

Pretty good for a forced writing session... now show us a picture of the haircut. Come on now... let's see it.

Queen Of The Valkyries said...

I'm feeling a little ill myself right now, but I think it was the ouzo. Ugh. The Amazon Woman was right when she called it Devil In A Bottle.

I can't believe it's my birthday, and I'm in bed at 8pm.
The good news: I'm going to feel much better the day after my birthday this year than I did on the day after my birthday last year. Because last year involved a couple of shots of tequila.