Where's the trumpet? Here, here! What they said, and stopped writing. Not really. Go figure that before long I was complaining that I never thought patterns, which prevented me from writing fiction. Well, there you have that this year I have spent some good gum: I'm watching TV or riding the Metrobus or about to sleep, when suddenly: fishijúm in a flash to me is a frame of mind. So I run to record the occurrence. And, in my spare time and alone, I write short stories. Anyway, when you just write what happened or when I have time free in my spare time, I promise to come back here with a trumpet. 
