**Story** BICHOK Eternal

***This is the first of the Flash pieces that will soon be the majority of posts here. It was written on 13th September, then edited by me one last time on the 16th.  I have sent it to a friend, John Barrett, for more editing, but he hasn't gotten back to me.  It may change depending on his feedback.  ***UPDATE 18 Sept.  John has gotten back to me on several points.  I agree with him on all counts, but alas, I'm going to let this story stand because I don't have the time to revise it.  I should also add that this story came from a writing prompt from the wonderful guys at http://www.writingexcuses.com/.  The prompt was "something strange that happens that prevents a writer from finishing a book".

Anyway, enjoy.

  Andrea sat just as she had been instructed in her writers group; Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard.
And she sat. And she sat some more. Every few minutes, the keys would click furiously as she typed. Then she would sit, consider the words she had just written, and very calmly press the enter key on her keyboard twice. She knew better than to delete anything, even the most abject failure.
  Andrea's epic fantasy had everything, all the little bits and bobs which were necessary to create a convincing and entertaining realm in which to escape modern life. Her characters were meticulously developed, her plots were solid and tightly formed, and all of her settings were beautifully detailed and realized. She was on her third revision, and the group finally thought she was ready to find an editor.  However, they said, there was one scene that needed to be reworked.
  Everyone knew, they all agreed, what a Gorgon looked like. Their agreement notwithstanding, they unanimously felt that her description of the snake-haired monstrosity needed work.
  So there she was, practicing the BICHOK principle, staring at the screen of her laptop with absolutely no idea how to re-word her description. Swiftly, she switched windows and reread the offending description, looking for something that might help her figure out why it was so bad. Short and succinct, it did not make a show of itself, just as a description of a minor bad guy should in her opinion.
  Sighing, she minimized the word processor, opened up her Internet browser, and keyed "Medusa" into the search field. As she sifted through the search results, filtering out websites showing piercings and roller coasters and other things disturbing and impertinent, she finally happened on a site containing only pictures. These she studied, making mental notes of angles and colors and details that would assist her in accomplishing what was turning out to be a completely odious task.
  Maybe her writers group was too picky. After all, this was her first novel, so it wasn't like anyone was expecting it to be perfect. And that's why one got an editor anyway, wasn't it? In fact, she was beginning to suspect that some of the members of her group were just jealous of her skill and her talent. Most of them had never even finished a book, let alone one with such a broad and sweeping scope as Andrea's.
  No, that was just frustration talking. Those people were her friends, and they would take just as much joy from her success as they would from selling their own works.
  Information overload soon took hold, and her mental notes became notes jotted on a pad of paper. She honestly didn't think she had done this much research for any antagonist in her book, not even the main villain. And this Gorgon only had a very small part to play. It just seemed like an exercise in futility.
  As she clicked back over to her word processor, she happened to glance at the time in the bottom corner of the screen. Her burbling stomach agreed with the clock. It was way past her lunchtime.
  One quick car trip and a burger and fries later, and she was back in front of her keyboard. At some point on her drive, inspiration had struck, and now she typed like a mad woman. All of the minutiae she had written down finally gelled into something brilliant. She wrote for a full hour without stopping, and when she finished she felt absolutely certain that she had nailed it. She couldn't wait to paste this new description into the scene. It would take tiny bit of tweaking, but with minimal work, it would fit perfectly.
  She closed her eyes, stretched a bit to ease an ache beginning in her back, and smiled. Her writers group was going to be blown away.
  She scrolled to the top of the document and began to read. Two lines in, she knew it was just as good as she had thought. The details were splendidly rich, and in her mind's eye she could see the scales glisten on each individual snake that sprouted from the head of the beast. She could hear their dry, rasping rustle as they moved against one another. The beautiful, full-lipped mouth full of sharp fangs and forked tongue was so vivid, her heart began to beat a little faster. And the eyes, oh the eyes. The weight of that stare pushed at her, and she could feel a sudden slowing of her heart and a creeping lethargy entered her body as she read her description of those accursed green orbs. Her lips once again twisted into a smile as she thought of the reaction of her friends as they read her words.
  At least, her lips tried to twist into a smile.
  Come to think of it, she couldn't make her finger work on the down arrow either. Strange. She tried to sit up straighter, but found she was unable. Her heart frantically tried to beat out the cadences of terror, but it just continued to slow. Panic raked shivering clawed fingers down her spine.
  Oh, she had nailed it all right. She had written probably the most perfect description of the fabled Gorgon that ever was. And now, her words were turning her to stone right where she sat, butt in chair, hands on keyboard.
  Great, she thought, now I'll never finish my book.