This way be madness…
John Sartre moved to town, running away from an existential crisis. he did not know what he wanted to do. He had tried his hand at art, play writing, film writing, essays, history, and philosophy. He felt he had succeeded at any of those. Then he came across the street sign and saw it as an omen, a talisman, a message — he would move in here and become a poet and he would not leave until he had succeeded. To date, no one has read the poems of John Sartre, and every time he sees the sign he sighs and wishes he were a sign maker. Then he could make sign to paste over this one and he could escape. Maybe then, there would be an outlet for his creative spirit.
[Editor’s note: now it is your turn. Take this image as inspiration and writing something funny, serious, sensible, or silly. Let inspiration be your guide and whimsy your muse.]
Booker's Blog 