Recently I was provided with the starting sentence and given five minutes to write a story. Obviously I am not a fiction writer and am ridiculously slow but here’s the outcome and don’t worry, I won’t quit my day job any time soon.
It was a dark night and the moon was full as I stepped out on my back porch. Speaking of moons, my neighbor was sitting on his porch in his standard ratty robe. I prayed he wouldn’t stand up and an errant breeze would reveal his moon.
He was on his sixth or seventh vodka of the evening and chain smoking Virginia Slims; both of which did wonders for his mental and physical illnesses. Fortunately, he was winding down for the evening and starting to nod off. I watched a half-lit cigarette drop from his fingers and roll across the porch. His dog raised his head to survey its progress but did nothing to help. I watched as he slid down in his chair. The breeze stirred, shifting his robe to expose what I had long suspected.
He was a eunuch.
lisaland.me 
I did NOT see that coming. You are nutty. He isn’t.
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