On My Writing

I finished the first draft of my last summer writing class assignment today. I liked the story. Let me be specific. I liked that the narrator was a reporter. I liked the opening scene--more like the end of a movie scene--and I liked the description of the booth in an aging restaurant. 

I've had at least three true-crime assignments in writing classes. I like them. It's not because I'm morbid, but the stories generated from these prompts seem extra entertaining.

My writing has been described as pithy and tight. For this assignment, I was worried that the two-page maximum would be difficult. The lack of gossip and speculation led me to write a short story. Yes I could have made up anything I wanted, but I found that, this time, I didn't want to do that. 

It's a mystery.