Inspiration comes from a lot of places. A snatch of song on the radio, a phrase overheard on the street, the title of a book or blog. Some people get it from watching the OwlBox. Some people get it from staring off into space and waiting for divine lightning to strike. For me, for this story, it came from a blog.
Every week, Chuck does a column called “Painting With Shotguns“; it’s a catchall column where he talks about the miscellaneous things that have caught his attention throughout the week, and things he thinks his readers should check out. The column itself isn’t what’s important, the title is.
See, this week, the title caught my attention in a way it never has before. I started to wonder exactly how a person would go about painting with a shotgun, and what kinds of situations might arise from it. Me being me, I couldn’t do a story about a Gallagher-style artist who shoots paint-filled watermelons. No, my mind went darker places, and my fingers on the keyboard followed.
This story is not lighthearted. In fact, it’s downright disturbing. You can find it after the jumpcut.
Remember, I warned you.