“¿Qué pasa hermana?” It had really not occurred to Jake that
something dire had happened until that extra second of silence Carly allowed
after his usual greeting. The way she
said Oh Jake almost pitched him to
his knees. He braced himself against a
wall. “What is it, Carly?”
(Oh it was a writer's most wretched day. I got depressed when I saw I didn't even place in the top 30 - winner, four runners up, 25 honorable mentions (!) - in a short story writing contest I entered...then I absolutely could not like one single word or thought or sentence I put on the page. These are the days that separate the crazy from the sane...and yes, I know which camp I attend. Whew...glad it's over.)
No comments:
Post a Comment