Recently at dinner I told my daughter (who was still wearing her leotard and sparkly skirt), fresh off a breakdown because she wanted new tap shoes TODAY, that: “Ballerinas LOVE elk chili.”
You already know, or you don’t, the parental impulse to say almost anything to get your kids to eat their dinner. That would be a fun list to read: THINGS I’VE TOLD MY CHILDREN IN ORDER TO GET THEM TO EAT.
Found paper and wrote it down. Is this a poem? A story? A book title? A line of dialogue?
Later that evening, I rolled some paper into the typewriter and gave it a go as a short story. The story centered around a conversation about elk chili, venison stew, a mess of squirrell pot pies, ballerinas, opera singers, members of orchestras, and stereotypes.
Some of the details are nice, but I’m not sure of the plot. This story will have to season for a while. The title though? I’ve been savoring that:
Ballerinas LOVE Elk Chili
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