Finish my one short story, perfectly.

The idea was in my head for years; maybe since I was a little girl in elementary school. Studying creative writing fried my brain, along with my creativity. So I quit writing. After two years of studying at SF State all my work was lost. Every writing assignment I worked so hard to finish. All that coffee and brain chemicals firing- gone with the trash the morning I left that city behind. But the story will always be in me, until I transfer it onto paper. The idea is child-like innocents from an adult view point. Some serious subjects that I actually witnessed in 3rd, 4th, 5th grade, all real conversations from children trying to grasp the adult world while swinging on the jungle gym at recess. This subject is most dear to my heart because children are so innocent and the world they are born into is so confusing to them. Condoms, death, fear of death, even the class wars of play ground playmates, and of course, “Who made God?” “When did time begin for God?” But these subjects have to be perfectly articulated on paper or I will not try. I owe it to preserve the child bliss that we kind of regain for a moment when we see a blue balloon sail into the clouds. Or her the jingle of the ice cream man and the mad scamper to follow shortly afterward. Plus those times were the best of my life, so I choose to honor them in words.