Wrote a one-minute play. Walked downtown and bought two tops. Had a chat with the store owner, who casually mentioned some trivia that would be perfect if I were secretly investigating a murder. Saving the trivia for a possible murder mystery.
Went to another store where the clerk tried to get me to try on a pair of black jeans. “They’re Jags. Everyone loves them! We can’t keep them in stock!”
“They look small.”
“You wear them a size smaller! They’re incredibly slimming. You will love them!”
In the dressing room, I could not get them past my shin. I considered taking off my knee-hi’s to buy a little extra space, then remembered I am a writer and don’t have time for this. “Thanks anyway.”
“Thanks for coming in!”
Went to Einstein’s, where I had a pretzel bagel and a sugar cookie.
Walked back and revised the one-minute play. Went to dinner, where Chef Linda served sugar cookies for dessert, warm out of the oven. We had to wait just a moment, while she found the sprinkle sugar.
Came back, wrote another one-minute play, then went down to the dark living room and sat in a huge velvet wing-backed chair, where I read a friend’s play that I’m trying to figure out. Think I got it this time.