It's when you're walking home while thinking, and all of a sudden you get this brainwave of inspiration - like a strike of lightning revitalizing your brain. Raw written text runs through your mind and you know exactly what to write and how and for how long, and you break into a run as you can't wait to get back home and open up the computer and pop up a new word file and get right into it.

And then you just write, and write, and write, and write. A floodgate has opened in my mind. Three thousand words and counting: the only reason I will stop is that I'm too tired to continue, and I will surely pick it up again tomorrow.

This one's about barbarian tribes, prophecies and storms, and an undrawable bow. I feel like I can write another few short stories and put them all up into a collection, provided I get a few more lightning strikes such as this one I just did.

Oh, yeah, weren't I supposed to write cyberpunk?

...Nah.