A Spark Of Inspiration

I looked for a job. Nothing too much, but enough to buy myself a new pair of shoes. I was beginning to look a little nappy. So I first went to the book store. I could see myself selling books. I mean, I write them right? It all makes sense. Then I went to the grocery store across the street, seemed easy enough. I skipped the gas station, that's one of those dead end jobs and the smell gives me a head ache. Then I checked out the sub shop. People eat sandwiches, I can make a sandwich, I can get money.

Though all of these jobs seemed easy enough, they didn't grab me. People always told me not to go big. They said, "Keep your options open, and don't close any doors Maxy." I hated being called Maxy, and I hated people telling me what to do. So went for the big points, the high score, the extra scoop. As I was at the book store, I asked the old woman at the check out counter if she knew of any local publishers, with in reason of distance of course. If I started local, with baby steps through each publisher, I could be hitting Borders, Barnes & Noble, maybe a Wal-Mart here or there.

I looked for a job. It's not like I was looking for something new.