Driving home I might pass a restaurant with something painted in the window, something about "fajita mix," and that might get my mind to wondering what fajita mix is, and maybe something about those two words put together strikes my fancy, and I decide I'm going to throw the phrase "fajita mix" into the next sentence I write in my story when I get home.
Just a fun, zany challenge, but it gets me wondering about what kind of writer I am. Maybe writing is just that, the next zany challenge, even though I dislike the word "zany." Writing is certainly an itch I have to scratch, but at the same time is it just a string of passing fancies? Do I search for truth in my words? Do others see truth in my words."
They just saw fajita mix, I'll tell you that.
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