So I was in my garrett, writing a new story that begins like this:

“If  he asks, she will tell him she grew the flowers. In the garden bed behind the shed. She’d planted them in May, forgotten she’d even put them in.”

But it turns out the daylight robber I thought I could hear in the kitchen (below me) was a pigeon. And it turns out beagles are good at catching pigeons.

And the story is unlikely to be what I thought it would be when I began.