Friday Flash Fiction: Knock, Knock
I'm beginning to conclude I work best under pressure. Every week I read Chuck Wendig's writing prompt , and think I'll jump right on that, have the story written by Monday, and for once have time to post it early. And every week I realize Thursday morning that I've not quite finished a draft (if I've even begun it), and every Thursday evening I end up editing the story at 9 or 10 p.m., barely making my deadline. This week is no exception. We were to start with a knock at the door. Here's the result, another bit of fun for JJ MacGregor of the Pismawallops PTA as she sits working upon a midnight dreary. I ran a few words over my 1000. Knock, Knock Rap-a-rap-a-rap! Thump! I practically crawled out of my skin when the knock—more like a pounding—sounded on my door. I was working late, trying to finish a short story, and the house was both empty and dark, aside from the light over my desk. Brian was at Justin’s house for the night so I was alone. It wouldn’t have been