David sat and stared at his tablet. The inspiration for a good Flash Fiction story just wouldn’t come.
He turned off lights, lit some candles and er, took some snuff. Nothing.
He stared for a bit, shut his eyes for a bit more. Nothing.
The cork on his prized bottle of Glen Moray made a satisfying ‘pop’ as he poured himself a glass of liquid motivator. Nothing came.
Then in a fit of exasperation, David put on his magic slippers.
‘Got it!’. He exclaimed in a Eureka moment. ‘I’ll write a story about a man who lacked inspiration!’.