Well written tales provide a framework of action with sympathetic characters. But for all the conventional wisdom about beginnings, middles and ends, how many words are reall needed to tell a story? Here’s a shot at a sci-fi adventure in a single paragraph.


Jerry’s first concussion happened at Wrigley Field.  He was heckling the Cardinal runner on first when a line shot foul bounced off the back of his head, eventually landing in section 235.  Instead of stars or cartoon birdies, he saw dozens of brown and gray squares. Those same shapes became cubes, covered with thousands of tiny lights when Jerry’s car blew a tire and smacked into a tree. Friends began to think that second blow to the head made him more than a little crazy. He told them of the coming Borg invasion and eventually whacked himself with a bat to gather another look. This time he saw naval formations and shuttles running back and forth to the larger squares. Doctors released him from the hospital believing the delusions would fade. But when he fell off his roof, his fourth head injury was his last, and Jerry became the first casualty in an interstellar war on the far side of the Milky Way.

« »