Birthing Short Stories
Almost every short story I write starts the same way: I hear a snatch of a sentence, see a small situation unfold, and wonder what would happen next. A man in his twenties brings his new girlfriend to a bar, and runs into his old girlfriend in a space packed so tight, they have no choice but to be shoulder to shoulder.
I get to overhear this small snippet at the beginning: “Hey. Have you met Lauren? This is Lauren.” “Hi, I’m Lauren.”