the ones that got away

Some of the stories don't work out. Let me clarify: a lot of the stories don't work out. Maybe they got one draft. Maybe they got one page. Maybe they got one line. Well, ok, I've never abandoned a story after one line. If the line was that good, it was repurposed somewhere. (I've never written a line that good.)

I'm thinking tonight about some of the stories that didn't make it. There was the one about the moon rides. I always think about that one this time of year. Just couldn't make it work, it's too bad. A fast start that devolved into mush no matter what angle I took. Then there was the one about the guy who was busy masturbating when he heard a crash and, after awkwardly getting his pants back on, discovered a cat in his kitchen he'd never seen before. As if that wasn't bad enough, the cat kept accusing him (in a human voice) of making a mess. 

About a year ago there was the one about the light bulbs. It was revealing itself to be a post-apocalyptic story, but there are few things more tired than the post-apocalyptic story these days, and I wasn't bringing anything fresh to it. So I abandoned it. I did dig this part, though:

“Block 12, from Lancaster to Warren, is contaminated.” His face, puffy and red, would be considered cherubic if we lived in a different world.

“You’re sure,” I say. This is not good.

 

“Five reports in the last two hours. The block has already been closed off.” 

“Christ, how did it get there? That block was sealed off six months ago.”  I can’t believe this.  We honestly thought we had the situation under control. I’d say we were even adjusting to living in this world. If the threat had not been eradicated, it was at least reasonably under control. But three days ago there was an outbreak in block 37, and now this today. My stomach churned, and I was glad I had not eaten any breakfast. 

We’d gotten complacent, in the face of something we didn’t understand.
  
“Have the executed the Koch brothers yet?”  I ask as my laptop wakes up. 

I mean, not great prose, but we all dream of a world free of the Koch brothers, no? I have no shame about these stillborn tales, but I am kind of bummed about some of them not making it. Sometimes, though, it just ain't working and you have to move on.