Generating Ideas
It’s cold and quiet. The smell of alchol is strong as they must have just cleaned the exam room in between patients. I am sitting on the table, awkwardly swinging my legs like a little girl on a swing set, eyes scanning the room, wishing they at least had a poster on the wall so I could imagine myself anywhere else. I couldn’t say exactly when it happened, but the next thing I know, I see this entire short story…