Frights and friendly wishes
two pieces of Microfiction and a short Announcement
Gored (13 words)
The dead squirrel in the jack-o’-lantern’s mouth was the least of Randall’s worries.
Panic
Her father wouldn’t slow down. TURN HERE—NO DON’T—WHERE ARE WE?—WHERE ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GO?
Words fumbled, knocked between each of his blasts. She couldn’t answer more. Her head was a train of half-starts and blown-up endings.
Eyes darted opposite her hands on the wheel, doubting, stammering, hoping for a sign to say all was well.
Country rolled around them. Prairie-brown spread and snapped left and right.
Lost. No two ways about it.
She gathered her guts to speak over him.
Her gaze caught the half-dead neon sign: “County Fair.”
Hello friends, and Happy Halloween! Just a quick word here.
Next Wednesday, subscribers can expect an essay from me tucked into their electronic mailboxes. After that, I’ll be on a break from publishing until the new year.
Due to sickness, upset plans, and general shenanigans, I’ve gotten behind in my writing. I’ll be using this time off to write and polish new pieces in the hopes—crossing my fingers—that I’ll be able to publish more often in 2025.
I also want to express my gratitude. To those who read my work, however you found me, your time is precious. It means a great deal when you’re willing to spend any of it here. I couldn’t hope for better companions. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
I hope your holidays are full of the traditions that warm and breathe life into the world. I’m counting on the new year to bring us each an adventure.
Photo by Daniel Lincoln on Unsplash
Even if one doesn't have a talent for the brief, there's always the longer, and at the very least a bit of practice in one can feed the other.
If you find that it brings forth little fruit, don't be afraid to cut your losses. Some genres, some forms just aren't suitable for some writers.
It can be a bit tricky to know when you need to keep refining and when you're using the wrong tool for the wrong job.
We all can do anything we put our hands to, but how far we can go on the path of refinement in a given field varies.
Writing at least has less physical barriers like having lungs too weak for a certain instrument or the wrong length of limbs for minmaxing a sport.
Indeed there's even ways those devoid of inspiration and imagination can write enjoyable stories.
But, this teller has rambled enough on that.
An extra hope that you find the improvement you seek, it's cheap to offer such goodwill after all.
May your knots be untangled and your sicknesses be banished. From muse to your mind and out your fingers may words flow with ease.
In short, hope all goes well for you.
Nice drabbles too, this day.