I dug a short story out of my basement. One piece of paper. Single spaced, with handwritten edits and notes all over it. It isn’t a finished story. I don’t have any idea how it ends, much less how it ends in 5,000 words or less. It’s not polished or shiny, and frankly, I may never figure out how it ends.

But, oh, that beginning!

I’ve turned the world upside down, looking for that one piece of paper. I’ve sifted through my hard drive. I’ve found it, and then given up again. I may have retyped it once, or twice.

It’s one of the short stories that sticks in my head for some reason. It’s sci fi, and it’s from a time when I wasn’t really writing a whole lot of that.

And I love the first line. Hell, I love the whole first paragraph, but it’s the first line I actually have memorized: Not all STDs are created equal.

Yeah, it’s a strange little story.

Doesn’t have much plot.

But it begins with one of those weird personal relationships, and that’s usually what ropes me in.

I just don’t know what happens next.