What I wouldn't give for an ending. Alas, it eludes. I have a beginning, I have a middle, I do not have an ending. The girl in the story is fully formed, or becoming so. She develops easily, although she does not have a name and is rather clueless about what is happening. She needs an ending to go forward, a light on the horizon, that North Star that the know-it-all writer is moving toward.
"So, what's the point of the bank robbery?" she asks me in that innocent way of hers.
"Yeah, I don't get it," pipes in Sanjay, the character who does have a name. "What's it have to do with the gun and the pool?" He smooths his silk shirt and tosses the gun on the table. Clunk.
"What happens after we rob the bank?" She timidly pushes the gun, as if playing spin the bottle. The muzzle points at me.
Oh, shit. They're right. What is going to happen after they rob the bank? Or are they even going to? We are all confused, except maybe the gun, which probably doesn't even belong in this story.
"Oh, well," she says dreamily and sits back into her huge sunglasses. Trust personified.
"Fuck it," says Sanjay. He stomps out of the room slamming the door behind him. Absolutely no trust.
I reluctantly pick up the gun, which turns into my pen and sends a few words spurting on the page.
"Although they had no idea what they were doing, ..."
To read the full story: http://tothebottom900.blogspot.com/
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