The WWWA

I was going through this notebook of mine where I write completely random stuff–like the beginning of countless novels I never actually got around to finishing, or the plot of a few short stories, or even simple observations–and I came across this short piece that was meant to expand into a proper story, but never did. The reason I’m putting this on here today is because I have absolutely nothing else to blog about, so this would have to suffice. Its kind of pointless and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but right now, I think I like it. But, then again, my love for what I write is transient, and chances are, in a few days, I’m going to abhor this piece. But oh well, you only live once and all that.

She insisted hers wasn’t a story worth writing about. But I had been “between jobs” for too long; the newspaper had scrapped my column and I refused to make a living writing obituaries. “It isn’t a matter of life and death!”, my exasperated editor had said in the face of my refusal. “But that is exactly what it is!”, I had countered. And so I walked out of his office, my head held high and my wallet completely dry.

But this meant my typewriter was gathering dust and I needed a story. Hers just happened to be the one I stumbled across.

She wasn’t too keen about the idea and it took all of my persuasive powers to get her to at least see me, and even then, I had to make several house calls for her to relent.

When she saw that I wasn’t going anywhere, she heaved a sigh of defeat, made us some tea and sat down beside me on the couch.

“Where do I start?”

“The End. Start with the end.”

“Alright. Well, my grandfather was killed by a pair of dice”

“Pair of dice?”

“Ach, yeah”

“What colour?”

“Red I think. Red, with little black dots. It was pretty. It killed him.”

“How?”

“Its a long story. I would have to start at the beginning”

“By all means”

And so it followed, that over countless cups of tea, she told me the story that Wasn’t Worth Writing About–or the WWWA, if you may.

“I was the heir to the throne of Mumbai”, she began

“Wait, really?”

“No. I just thought it would make the story more interesting”

“Huh. I think you may be on to something…Proceed.”

Aaand that is where I stopped. I might take it up again, I don’t know…

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