Putting on your hat before your pants

The sun was barely over the horizon when the Lewinson decided that the only way for him to stay on course with the framework he had built for his life was to book the trip overseas in hopes that someone would notice the intercontinental plane ticket lying haphazardly around his slovenly home and ponder what kind of decision making skills he had to start a new idea and have another new idea looming on the brink of an unformed moment that easily resembled an unborn planet being terraformed within a computer module by eyes, hands, and brains that could not grasp its existence but knew inherently that it would become part of the world that they encumbered just as much as they would know, plan and execute tomorrow’s breakfast determined by today’s grocery market shopping. This was an attempt to write the first sentence of a story but to make it as long as possible. I made it to 148 words in one sentence before I felt unnatural. How far can you make it?


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