Nothing Is Too Much Droubble

A droubble by EwanL

Yes. Thanks. Too prolix by half: that's me, you see. Can't do it. Just can't. A story in two hundred words? How? Look, I was there, just behind good old Jack's tired Remington. Tap, tap, tappety-tap. Sometimes I wish he'd been in front of a Remington, as long as it was the kind you could load.

Did you know it took 15 years to get On The Road published? So what? You say. I've got a book I've been trying to get out for twenty. Don't forget though, Kerouac's debut novel was published by a friend.

Anyway.

It was a dark and stormy night...

KIDDING!

I've got a story. Want to read it?

No, thought not.

Never mind.

There's a girl, there's a gun, and there's an anti-hero. What more do you want?

Sure, I knew it. Vampires. I am not Stephanie. Ok, no vampires, capisce? Anything else I can do for you?

Maaaan! Zombies? You cannot be serious! I hope.

Listen! I'm a serious writer, don't you get that?

So... Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was this girl and a gun and ...well of course, write what you know... sure, there was me.