Bugger, woke with a nasty sore red right eye, almost closed.
Not a happy bunny. I should post 25 miserable prompts.
But I WILL keep the writing run going, see if I can't get past a daily average for the month of 1,500 a day.
Here are the prompts
I Look Out For Ed Wolfe
His Son in His Arms, Alight, Aloft
Telephone for God? Is God Here?
Ich Bie ein Berliner
One day, before or after forty-two, I became a lomg-distance runner.
It was December, late autumn, rather than winter.
A Small Pile of Shakespeare's Shit
Howard filled his glass again and gulped it down
Xmas in Chesepeake Bay
The myriad of fixed stars continued
Nothing remains but to fight
Jealous Husband Returns in Form of a parrot
The Incredible Appearing Man
Sing Like That for ME!
All Shall Love Me and Despair
The Memorial Held BEFORE the War
I wave when he clears the drive