Previous Genius

I just spent he better part of an hour scouring my old notebooks for this one tiny bitty story that I wrote a year and a half ago. Because it is nowhere to be found, it is of course perfection. It serves as evidence of my then emerging brilliance which is now choked and stymied. Without this story I will never reclaim the talent that was once mine. Little matter that none of the other tripe I found in the notebooks is worth beans, this short short is was and ever will be my literary salvation.

I probably chucked the notebook two moves ago.

I did find lots and lots of old Boggle games from when James, Diana, and I, plus miscellaneous other folks, would hunker down at the Grind and boggle our brains out. La-dee-da, the memories wrapped up in lists of ire, roe, are, ear, and rare...