When I’m thinking about a story, I usually try to write it down.  If I am trying to finish something else, though, I jot down some notes and return to it later.

This time, however, I completely forgot about the notes until finding them now, almost two years later.  I no longer remember any impetus behind these thoughts.  There are four statements that seem to make no sense: if you can write a story with these elements then I will … well I will be impressed.

Listens to styx

Are they on a yacht?

A mirror with a thousand worlds emerges into an infinity of new realities.

Stink of the grave

Seriously, where was I going with this?