Most short stories I’ve read are about nothing. It occurs to me that it is far easier to write about nothing and turn it into something than necessarily having a rough and tumble lifestyle. Those people would never have the patience to sit down and write about it. It’s an introverted way to be extroverted. That said, it seems I’ve written about nothing. Does it ever get old? There must be something else, not even a pun? Not right now.
