When I’m thinking about a story, I usually try to write it down. If I am trying to finish something else, though, I jot down some notes and return to it later.
This time, however, I completely forgot about the notes until finding them now, almost two years later. I no longer remember any impetus behind these thoughts. There are four statements that seem to make no sense: if you can write a story with these elements then I will … well I will be impressed.
Listens to styx
Are they on a yacht?
A mirror with a thousand worlds emerges into an infinity of new realities.
Stink of the grave
Seriously, where was I going with this?