I'm supposed to be sleeping right now.
Ew.
I decide to write a little, just for kicks.
I walk over to my desk and pull out some paper and a pen. I sit pondering, not sure what to put down into words.
I write the first thing that comes to my head.
Indiana Jones.
I find that I like the look of it on paper. I write it over and over again, all over the paper. The two words are ringing in my head like the loud pealing of bells in the chapel.
I lose myself, lose all sense of what I am doing. I just have to write that name. One more time...one more time.
I stop.
And see a piece of paper completely covered with the name Indiana Jones.
I say his name repeatedly in my head, Indy, Indy, Indy, Indy.
It is a rather sexy name, I begin to find.
Indiana Jones.
Marion Ravenwood.
Marion Jones.
Mrs. Indiana Jones.
You know, it kind of has a nice ring to it...
I blink in horror at the wistful thoughts pouring throughout my mind.
I slap myself in an attempt to wake up out of this haze. I tear the paper with Indy's name on it into pieces and walk to the campfire, throwing them in with a vicious growl.
The workers glace warily at me, seething and breathing hard. I storm back into my tent, pacing back and forth as I try to make sense of things.
I hate writing.
It's evil. It's demonic.
And it makes me think about things that should NOT be thought about.
Review, even though this is a useless short purely for the entertainment of my muse.
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