Ah fiction. My first love, the Land of Make Believe that excites me, gets me up out of bed to create each morning.
I write short stories and novels and share them here from time to time.
I played on, slowly as Gershwin himself demanded, until I felt the edges of my host’s lips curl into a defiant smile. I love this song, she said. How did you know it would make me feel better? “Because, honey,” I said. “That’s what it was created to do.”
The Fresh Fruit—the newest arrivals—are gathered on the grassy area, clustered in small groups, and they sure look fresh. Eyes darting around the yard, some look more comfortable than others, like they’ve been here before, while others have that stink of fear I recognize on them, a stink I can smell across the yard.[…]
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