Retreating with Stinky Feet

Once in a while, a story idea may come along thatis unique, plausible, interesting, and which may bewritten as is; without needing to be edited again andagain, in draft after draft of unfitting exasperation.Unfortunately, such an idea is the exception to theproverbial rule for me. This first story about playingsebastopal with cull potatoes happens to be just suchan exception. Most of my ideas have to be grasped,bounced around and steeped for weeks or months inthe stale mouldering mush of my mind, in hopes thatsomeday they will all be written down in some formof manuscript in blanca y negro. M. D.