“Come up with 10 good reasons you shouldn’t write your life story.”

Not fictional fodder, but blame that on the prompt.  The numerals aren’t included in the word count for you purists.  Here goes:

1.  I haven’t done anything worthy of taking the time to jot it down.

2.  I’m a late bloomer; the good stuff always comes later in life for me than for the average bear. Check back in a decade .

3.  Those who would buy it probably already know most of the juicy bits.

4.  Those who would buy it probably shouldn’t know the remaining juicy bits.

5.  I’m not a huge risk taker.

6.  I’m not rich.

7.  I’ve never preserved a sex tape.

8.  I’ve never murdered anyone.

9.  I’ve never made a viral YouTube video.

10.  I’d much rather write fiction that includes all of the above.

Image by Still Burning via Flickr

Today’s prompt for my drabble is:

“What if you’re going to write a story about infidelity with a female paramedic as the main character and a pair of boots as the key object?  Set your story in a prison cell.”

My little mind had to work overtime to come up with 100 words (exactly) of concise genius to meet this challenge.

Eva’s steel-toed paramedic boots echoed as she followed the guard down the tiled hallway to the prisoner holding area.

“Well if it ain’t my lovely wife.”

“Why Stan?  Why would you kill your best friend?”

Stan moved closer to the bars that separated them and pointed at Eva’s footwear.  “Manny’s wife will want to bury her husband in those.”

Eva’s eyes widened as she sat down and removed her right boot.  The name inside was not her own but that of her co-worker, Manfried O’Toole.

“I can explain…”

“Manny already did when I asked him why he was wearing yours.”