Nash Urban is learning to write fiction.

Listen to me instead of a robot here: Apple, Spotify, Pocket Casts
Content Warning: This post contains adult language and themes.
John held his card up to the reader and let out a well-deserved sigh. The week was done. "Heading to the Alibi to grab a few drinks. You joining?" he called out, stepping to the side of the reader.
Jessie took his turn at the machine, greeted by the sweet sound of clocking out. "Naw," he groaned. "I need to work through a few things. Last night the Mrs. seemed pretty upset after our monthly salsa in the sheets, if you know what I mean."
"Hey Romeo," barked a voice from behind Jessie, who hadn't realized he was holding up the line. "Mind salsa-ing somewhere else?"
"Yeah, sorry Tony," he mumbled, turning back to John to walk with him towards the lockers.
"Is that the end of the story?" John prodded.
A few paces later Jessie muttered, "...bering her."
"Bud, I know Tony caught you with your pants down just then, but I can barely hear you over the noise," John remarked, leaning in closer.
"She said I need to stop encumbering her," Jessie blurted out with slightly too much force.
John let out a confused "What?" with Jessie not seeming to notice.
"Thing is, it's the only sexual position I'm good at. She knew that when we got married," Jessie continued, oblivious to John's confusion.
John just smiled, waiting to see where this ship was sailing, as they rounded the corner and headed into the lockers.
"Yeah, I don't get it. I thought I encumbered her real good," Jessie mused. "Anyway, I'm gonna pick up some flowers and do a bit of my own research. Maybe hit up one of those Dr. Lady relationship websites."
"Dr. Lady?" John echoed, equal parts amused and confused.
"You know. Those relationship counselor sites that give advice from a lady's point of view," Jessie explained. "Try to smooth things over. Maybe learn a few new moves and whatnot."
John bit his lower lip, just holding back a snort and the urge to ask Jessie his definition of encumbered. Instead, he placed his hand, straight-armed, on Jessie's shoulder. He looked him dead in the eye and offered what any friend worth their salt would say:
"Can't go wrong with flowers. See you on Monday?"
Jessie nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Yeah, see you on Monday John. And thanks. You’re a good friend."
©️ Nash Urban, 2024
All rights reserved.
So, I wrote way too much to start these Nash's Notes—burning flesh and blackout curtains among other things, don't ask—so I did one of the hardest things a writer has to do... or have someone on the payroll do for them:
DELETE, DELETE, DELETE.
Long story short, I forgot to take my phone to the gym the morning I wrote Can’t Go Wrong With Flowers. No music. No screen. I got home and thought you know what, I just kind of want to stay off screens for the rest of the day. But I also want to continue my coursework and knock out the next writing prompt, and it's all online. I don't have anything printed out.
I have no prompts written down and nothing comes to mind, save the 100-word drabble idea. And a blank page and "just write anything" is a death sentence. What's a slightly balding middle-aged man to do?
While pondering my dilemma (and my hairline), sipping a cup of Peru Blue and blankly staring at the living room bookshelf, my good eye glanced at the spine of our family dictionary. I was reminded that I use it to choose a keyword for my kids' biweekly diary entry wherein I pick a random word and they have to work it into what they write somehow.
Just open to a random page, point a blind finger and voila, Bob's your uncle.
Bingo. Problem solved. Constraint realized. Level up. And other things.
This is how I quite literally landed on "encumbered," my keyword for today.
WRITING PROMPT: "THE ENCUMBERED EDITION"
So, I grabbed my keys and a notebook and headed to a coffee shop, where, coincidentally, everyone else was partaking in the very thing I was attempting to escape for the day. Funny that (he said sarcastically).
Earlier in the week, for reasons I won't get into here, I found myself partaking in an online grammar test. Shit was hard. Not gonna lie.
Relevant to the prompt, there was a word association section with a few terms I was unfamiliar with, which got me thinking about my own vocabulary and led to an "oh, shit, have I been using that word incorrectly this whole time?" moment.
Also funny because, as I'm sure most of you have experienced, a friend or colleague has been on the wrong end of that equation with you there to bear witness—not quite making it to the "oh shit" moment, but rather the "yeah, I know big words good" moment.
Humorous (if I do say so myself) personal anecdote inserted here in the article voiceover.
Thus, I had the idea for, not just the what, but the how of what I wrote today. I thought I would go for some humor and shenanigans (am I using that correctly? Probably not.), rather than 'appropriately' using the term. Hopefully, I got a chuckle out of you. Or at least half of one.
Until next time…
See you on the next page,
Nash
Send me a telepathic high-five
Like, comment, collect and/or share
Share with a friend or casual acquaintance
Buy me a coffee (I love coffee!)
Consider becoming a subscriber

Listen to me instead of a robot here: Apple, Spotify, Pocket Casts
Content Warning: This post contains adult language and themes.
John held his card up to the reader and let out a well-deserved sigh. The week was done. "Heading to the Alibi to grab a few drinks. You joining?" he called out, stepping to the side of the reader.
Jessie took his turn at the machine, greeted by the sweet sound of clocking out. "Naw," he groaned. "I need to work through a few things. Last night the Mrs. seemed pretty upset after our monthly salsa in the sheets, if you know what I mean."
"Hey Romeo," barked a voice from behind Jessie, who hadn't realized he was holding up the line. "Mind salsa-ing somewhere else?"
"Yeah, sorry Tony," he mumbled, turning back to John to walk with him towards the lockers.
"Is that the end of the story?" John prodded.
A few paces later Jessie muttered, "...bering her."
"Bud, I know Tony caught you with your pants down just then, but I can barely hear you over the noise," John remarked, leaning in closer.
"She said I need to stop encumbering her," Jessie blurted out with slightly too much force.
John let out a confused "What?" with Jessie not seeming to notice.
"Thing is, it's the only sexual position I'm good at. She knew that when we got married," Jessie continued, oblivious to John's confusion.
John just smiled, waiting to see where this ship was sailing, as they rounded the corner and headed into the lockers.
"Yeah, I don't get it. I thought I encumbered her real good," Jessie mused. "Anyway, I'm gonna pick up some flowers and do a bit of my own research. Maybe hit up one of those Dr. Lady relationship websites."
"Dr. Lady?" John echoed, equal parts amused and confused.
"You know. Those relationship counselor sites that give advice from a lady's point of view," Jessie explained. "Try to smooth things over. Maybe learn a few new moves and whatnot."
John bit his lower lip, just holding back a snort and the urge to ask Jessie his definition of encumbered. Instead, he placed his hand, straight-armed, on Jessie's shoulder. He looked him dead in the eye and offered what any friend worth their salt would say:
"Can't go wrong with flowers. See you on Monday?"
Jessie nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Yeah, see you on Monday John. And thanks. You’re a good friend."
©️ Nash Urban, 2024
All rights reserved.
So, I wrote way too much to start these Nash's Notes—burning flesh and blackout curtains among other things, don't ask—so I did one of the hardest things a writer has to do... or have someone on the payroll do for them:
DELETE, DELETE, DELETE.
Long story short, I forgot to take my phone to the gym the morning I wrote Can’t Go Wrong With Flowers. No music. No screen. I got home and thought you know what, I just kind of want to stay off screens for the rest of the day. But I also want to continue my coursework and knock out the next writing prompt, and it's all online. I don't have anything printed out.
I have no prompts written down and nothing comes to mind, save the 100-word drabble idea. And a blank page and "just write anything" is a death sentence. What's a slightly balding middle-aged man to do?
While pondering my dilemma (and my hairline), sipping a cup of Peru Blue and blankly staring at the living room bookshelf, my good eye glanced at the spine of our family dictionary. I was reminded that I use it to choose a keyword for my kids' biweekly diary entry wherein I pick a random word and they have to work it into what they write somehow.
Just open to a random page, point a blind finger and voila, Bob's your uncle.
Bingo. Problem solved. Constraint realized. Level up. And other things.
This is how I quite literally landed on "encumbered," my keyword for today.
WRITING PROMPT: "THE ENCUMBERED EDITION"
So, I grabbed my keys and a notebook and headed to a coffee shop, where, coincidentally, everyone else was partaking in the very thing I was attempting to escape for the day. Funny that (he said sarcastically).
Earlier in the week, for reasons I won't get into here, I found myself partaking in an online grammar test. Shit was hard. Not gonna lie.
Relevant to the prompt, there was a word association section with a few terms I was unfamiliar with, which got me thinking about my own vocabulary and led to an "oh, shit, have I been using that word incorrectly this whole time?" moment.
Also funny because, as I'm sure most of you have experienced, a friend or colleague has been on the wrong end of that equation with you there to bear witness—not quite making it to the "oh shit" moment, but rather the "yeah, I know big words good" moment.
Humorous (if I do say so myself) personal anecdote inserted here in the article voiceover.
Thus, I had the idea for, not just the what, but the how of what I wrote today. I thought I would go for some humor and shenanigans (am I using that correctly? Probably not.), rather than 'appropriately' using the term. Hopefully, I got a chuckle out of you. Or at least half of one.
Until next time…
See you on the next page,
Nash
Send me a telepathic high-five
Like, comment, collect and/or share
Share with a friend or casual acquaintance
Buy me a coffee (I love coffee!)
Consider becoming a subscriber
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
Nash Urban is learning to write fiction.

Subscribe to nu fiction

Subscribe to nu fiction
<100 subscribers
<100 subscribers
No activity yet