“Now, here’s a little story I gots to tell…” ~Mike D, MCA, and Ad-Rock
You. You who have hung on and read. Who have listened and liked. Who have even commented. You. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart for listening to me go on and on and on about myself with little substance aside from light epiphany.
Yes, thank you.
So, a story? Have I got one?
Most of the short stories that I’ve been working on in the last year (or maybe my whole life) have to do with either unhealthy or unrequited love. Passionate, short-lived affairs. Kids (when I say kids, I mean early 20s) sitting on the cold lip of a tub contemplating a kiss that they know will be their last. A woman leaving her body during an affair. An ex-girlfriend calling in the middle of the night marking the beginning of the end for a young troubled couple. Another young woman attempting to paste the pieces of herself together after her long-term lover beats her for the last time.
So. Damn. Bleak.
I did try to write some weird Kafkaesque story about a young woman’s mysterious lump talking to her, but that only lived for a page and a half and probably would have also turned into an impossible love affair. Eeeewww.
So, what up? I’m obviously working something out.
Okay, so here’s a story…