I venture out into public, showered, but not shaved. A modern hermit, I tell the other NaNoers. That’s right! I’m at the first NaNo meeting, where we’ve circled the tables for a round of introductions and story idea exchanges. I tell them about The Hermit’s Door, withholding important details, of course. (You never know where a plagiarist might be hiding! One girl rubs her chin, eyeing my new beard. Highly suspicious!)
We’re all wasting time instead of writing. Food’s on the back table. Just now, the room has gone silent.
I imagine everyone is trying there hardest to steal my story idea from my head. I drink some more cream soda, hoping the gas will throw them off.