One of the problems with the Blog posting format is that the most recent stories are up here on the front page while the first couple of weeks are hidden away. That’s sad, because some of the first were some of my favorites. Check out number 2, number 1 and number 4 for some of my favorites. If you liked “A beautiful Knee” then number 4 is required reading.
Thanks for all the recent feedback, that’s what keeps me writing and inspires me to write better, plot harder, and type faster.
Stories have been a bit short and rushed lately. This is due to a number of factors, some of which are resolving themselves even now. 21 especially was the result of a very ambitious idea combined with a very procrastinated writing schedule – not a good combo. There was a big beautiful story there, and it didn’t make it onto the page last week. The situation will improve, I promise.
I am coming up on the halfway point, number 26. I have big plans for story 26, but I will try to redeem some of my more pitiful efforts in the next couple of weeks as well. Look forward to edited and expanded versions of a few past stories, better weekly stories, and maybe some special surprises.
Thanks for reading, and don’t forget to rate the stories when you read them, and let me know which ones you’d like to see expanded and enhanced.
Little red riding hood walked through the old forest with her hood pulled down low over her face. She walked with a angry tension, almost but not quite stamping her feet with every step. The little wicker basket hanging from one arm emitted the occasional sound of glass contacting crockery as it swung unregarded.
It is not easy to design a joint for a fifty meter long steel leg. Not if you want to create a smooth, elegant curve of metal that can support your thousand ton arachnid robot and yet appear as delicate and simple as the leg of a back widow. Not easy at all, but whoever had designed this one had known his business.
I walked around in a daze for a while after convincing myself that yes, really, the lottery ticket numbers matched the lottery drawing numbers. My head buzzed with excitement and confusion, half-remembered daydreams and fantasies of time travel and super powers. After so long poor, tired, desperate, I worried that maybe the shock had unhinged me. The sensation of frustrated deja-vu finally drained away and I was left with a sort of tense elation. I banked the cash and went looking for something fun to do.
A table’s width of space was all the difference necessary between our two stations, for one to find glory and the other death.
But oh, death can be glorious too, and glory can be a bitter pill indeed.
