Here’s an example of writing a story under timed conditions when you have been given the last line. As I suggested in my previous blog post, knowing the ending can help to structure your writing and make your word choices more thoughtful.
When you say you’re tired, I believe you. And that’s because you’re my son and I’m your mother. I have always believed you, especially when I knew you were lying. That’s how our relationship works. A done deal.
So you promise you’ll message your sister and your dad and grandpa and grandma X two and the list goes on.
You’re good with lists until you get bored.
They won’t always be around I say, speaking slowly and vaguely enough for this particular tone to reach you down the phone. Contact is a chore for you. People are like bats in the dark. They are peripheral, not there when they’re not there.
Your girlfriend is there though. She’s not a photograph anymore. Not a picture.
And then you tell me you’re fine and the same as you’ve always been and maybe you’ll go for a walk tomorrow.
And I say I am glad you’re not staying as a vampire forever and you laugh, I laugh, grateful that in a moment, you have grown so wise, grown so terrible.
