Free Extreme Fiction

About-Nowhere

    Back in junior college, I was part of an improv group for, maybe, two weeks. No live performances. A couple of "rehearsals". That was about it. That's when I came up with the idea for a comedy sketch about someone needing to pee behind a bush and being frustrated in his efforts by a parade of oddballs doing funny things. No one in the group liked the idea. Too vulgar. (I get that criticism a lot.) The idea stayed stuck in my head for a decade or so, partly, I think, because I've always been so addicted to soda pop myself and therefore have spent a lot of each and every day looking down past myself at a porcelain bowl. The year after I attended Clarion West (which makes it, what, 1985? 1986?) out this story came. The title was given to me by Greg Cox, a fellow Clarion attendee, as part of his critique of it. I loved writing "Nowhere To Go." There are just so many different colorful and funny ways to describe the penis and the act of urination.