Today I worked on revising some stuff I had completed and let sit for awhile. Writing is like making soup. The longer it sits, the better it gets. And that which was perfect last month is incomplete today.
One story needs an ending. I was trying to create something short, something flash. It may still stay as a short piece, but it's not going to be flash. In fact, I may only have the beginning.
That's always a disheartening feeling, for some reason. Finished, no. Barely started. Where do I go from here? How does it end? Other, of course, than some time in the future.
Just like housework...