Day Eight: Done. 1,715 words.

Some days, you just have to write fluff. I mean fluff. Pure escapism, with no particular literary value, and certainly nothing profound. Work that has as its only goal making somebody—maybe the reader, maybe just you as the writer—laugh.

Not brilliant satire, the kind that takes some amazingly talented person hours to create and edit and hone into a fine-bladed wit. Just plain old garden-variety, laugh-while-you-read-it-and-then-forget-all-about-it fluff. All the intellectual nutrition of cotton candy.

Yep. Some days, that’s just exactly what a person needs. Like me, today. I wrote cotton candy. And it was good.