Mountains on a Lake
So, I have quite an otherworldly wound on my arm. Not only did it leave a large patch of my skin strangely hairless, it cut out a pattern that seems to belong in some science fiction representation of human DNA. But not entirely. It also resembles an abstract understanding of a circuit board. Probably the strangest part of it all, however, is that what little it bled was not blood...
It bled ink.
Scattered Song.
Feels like it was just a couple days ago I was saying 1/6, and now we’ve jumped past the 1/3 mark! The support this past week has been absolutely stunning, and I can’t say thank you enough.
Still a ways to go to make this happen, but I have no doubt we can get there!
As always, link included below if you’re interested in learning more:
Coming or Going? #123
Winter Cabin in the Dark of Night.
There's Still Lettuce - A Short Story
Short fiction is something I don't play around with as often as the novel writing, but there are times when a phrase or story idea gets its hooks into me and demands expansion and exploration. The above flash fiction is one of those stories.
Been working to figure out how to format this kind of story for posting online, without it being a PDF download or anything. Pretty pleased with this final layout, as it breaks up the text a little while hearkening back to newspapers and print media publications. (And it translates well to reading on mobile, which is great!)
Hope you enjoy There's Still Lettuce, just a little something from beyond the universe of COLOR OF A MIRROR that shares a similar view of the shadows that lurk in the future.
A Monument to Our Destruction. (Atomic Shadow.)