One of the fiction pieces I’m working on is a modern urban fantasy murder mystery.Â A coworker recently asked to read some of my work so I let her read the prologue to that story.
She just came to my desk begging for more of the story.Â If only I had more than the prologue and the first chapter ready for public consumption.
I’m putting that prologue on here for anyone who might want to read it.
Why is it that the only person who doesn’t realize that X is an idiot is X himself?
Yes, I have someone very specific (a coworker) in mind when I ask that question.
As I sit here in my office at seven o’clock in the morning, waiting for a report to compile, I realize that I have been here for two hours already.Â I wonder what in the world would prompt me to get out of bed at godsforsaken o’clock in the morning and come to work so early.
Then I remember…it’s calledÂ overtime pay!Â