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Without further ado...
"My Name is Imago Montoya"
The twins shriek through, chasing each other with plastic swords, dollhouse mirrors as shields, misquoting The Princess Bride.
No one’s killed me. I’m sitting right here, trying to write. You couldn’t tell from my progress. A miasma of doubt and frustration fills my brain.
Cindy comes in, fresh from the shower. An oversized Lacuna Coil tee hangs to her knees. Was there really a time we got to go to concerts? Her fingers flutter over my shoulders. “Getting anywhere?”
My sigh answers her. I’m getting nowhere on this sequel to my first novel, Synchronicity Blues.
“Prepare to die!” one girl shouts from another room. Cindy leaves to settle them.
I review my last few paragraphs. My heroine yawns three times in them. Thesaurus time! Gape, gawp, … oscitate? No. Maybe just better to rewrite, so I delete the troublesome text. Keep those eyes off the wordcount!
The girls dart in, Cindy following with an “I tried” shrug.
“Tell us a story, Daddy!”
I spin a tale of heroic princesses and treacherous dragons. Their rapt attention reminds me why I love storytelling.
My excitement must show. Cindy herds them off to bed. “Looks like dad’s ready to get back to work!”