This week’s Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge is all about the seven deadly sins. I chose sloth. Those of you who know me will not find this a surprise. Please to enjoy.
That’s a terrible title, but there’s not much I can do about it, is there? If I was going to do something about it I’d have to think of a better one. I’d have to consider options. God help me, I’d probably have to sit up while I did it. They say that sitting up while you think is supposed to make you more alert and stimulate your creativity. Why, I ask, would I want to do that?
There were supposed to be a couple of additional characters in this story. Some setting, too. Maybe even world-building. Not today. I had a long day at work and I’m just not up for it. I’m going to knock out a few hundred words then go sit on the couch and play Flow. Or maybe Candy Crush. Eventually I’ll turn the TV on, I guess. “The Voice” is on tonight. I think it’s the last night of the blind auditions. I don’t want to miss that. I hope I can find the remote. I did something with it last night before I went to bed, but I don’t remember what.
I’ll need to eat at some point. There’s hot dogs in the fridge, but I’d have to walk all the way to the kitchen to get them out and cook them. ALL. THE. WAY. To the kitchen. How can you expect me to do that? I’d have to find my slippers first. I think they’re by the bed, but that’s way the heck over there (Ordinarily I’d wave a hand in the general direction of “over there” to show you where the bed is, but I’m not going to. Like I said, it’s been a long day and I’m trying to type. Can’t be bothered with extraneous gestures that you can’t see anyway. This is WordPress, not YouTube.).
There’s a little black dog laying on the couch beside me as I type this. She’s sleeping, curled up in a little ball with her paws tucked under her nose. Every now and then she twitches and her ears give a little shake. She’s snoring, very softly. I know how she feels.
The couch is not far from the foot of the bed (again, the bed is “over there.” You’ll have to continue working out for yourself what that means). To get to bed and go to sleep later, I’m going to have to move a few feet and climb into the bed. It’s so high, though (how about those italics? I hope you appreciate the extra effort I put in to make that happen (and look, I just did it again!).). My wife has the right idea. She put a footstool on her side of the bed to use to get up. I’d ask her to toss it over to me, but I’d have to give it back after I used it and that would probably involve bending over. OK. Yeah.
This story is only about 500 words long right now. We have a thousand words to play with this week, but I don’t really feel like making the effort, even if I did just type out “a thousand” instead of writing “1,000”. That was five extra keystrokes, not to mention this whole tangential sentence. I have no idea where I’m finding this kind of initiative.
Like I was saying, I’m well short of the word limit for this week but I’m finished. I mean, seriously. I have TV to watch, maybe some hot dogs to eat, and a bed to climb into later. That’s a lot. I have to save my strength. You’re lucky to be getting even 600 words out of me today. I can’t believe I got even that many. I’m done. I probably won’t even bother to finish the last senten