Pattern
Every few weeks, I attend a free-association writing group in my city. We're given a single word as a prompt and then we free-write for 30 minutes. Somehow it always happens that my free-writing turns into blood and guts and death, even though that's not at all what I usually write about; my current work that I'm querying is more twisty politics and LGBT romance. This piece flips back and forth between first person and second person, which was completely unintentional. I considered editing it but I wanted to present my work in its original form. I kind of like it this way, actually - a little something different. A little extra creepy, like the narrator isn't quite sure whose head they're in. This week's prompt word was "pattern." -- A pattern. A row. A line. Of dots. Of dots. Of dots. Of dots. Of DOTS. You hate them. You hate the dots. Every dot, every time, every line telling you how long it’s been since you first g...