A short/flash story of mine got published by Daily Science Fiction. You can read Cursed Timeline here. There are also some closing thoughts at the end once the story is over; don’t miss those.
“Who is, or was, this Bardo?” Corin asked.
“Is, he is still alive as far as I know,” Dolman said and a faint smile crossed his face. “He was discharged. His place wasn’t the army. Oh, he was pretty good, but…” his voice trailed off and the smile became a chuckle.
“He was one of von Strab’s Morons,” one of the hunters explained.
“That’s uh… an officer?” The scribe ventured.
“No, those were von Strab’s Idiots. The Morons were then brain-scrambled boys they grabbed when the war got really nasty.”Continue reading “November 15 story: Twenty Feet, Part III”
The businessman shot off to nearest alley, loudly cursing the sudden downpour. There, in the recessed doorway of an old building, decorated by the grotesque, jutting moldings that were a fashionable feature of the Old City district, he found shelter. And other men were looking for the same thing, or at least that’s what he thought at first.
The four men didn’t seem worried by the rain, and they walked his way with an almost casual pace. He didn’t like how they were dressed, or how they looked (and looked at him,) but he repressed the thought since he was a tolerant fellow.
The town of Hanel had once been known for its vineyards, and for the first months of the war, their inhabitants still thought they would be able to go on with their lives as always. But the Germans advanced with surprising speed, the war front grew, first from the south and then to the north, finally growing into sprawling trenches.
The Germans on one side and the English on the other, tried to outdig one another in their march to the English Channel, and the trenches squirmed upwards, finally leaving the small French town on the German side. Although they were gentle with the local populace, war has its priorities, and the town infrastructure fell in disrepair, then most of its inhabitants left, and finally, in the pull and push between the Germans and the British, the town was all but destroyed.
November is the month when writers-bloggers disappear and go radio silent as they set to do a Nanowrimo or similar writing ordeal. I’m going to do something like that but, if all goes well, I won’t go silent.
On MeWe.com I joined a group that put forward the idea of writing a flash story (500-1000 words or so) a day for the entire month. I believe that’s harder than a straightforward writing marathon, not due to the quantity of output but quality, since writing 10 one-thousand-word stories is usually harder than just a single ten-thousand-word story. Still, that’s the goal, or the ideal anyway, and that’s what I’m aiming for.
Before I had jumped into that project, I actually already had another one in mind for this month: posting a writing-related post each day. I had even written down the list, but I doubt I’ll be able to do both things. However, it may be a good filler for those days when, for one reason or another, the stories fail to appear.
So, basically, I’ll write whatever I fell like writing, mostly fiction, but whatever pours forth from the muses. Adventure, horror, parody, the most exciting retelling of watching paint dry… whatever I come up with. I already have a few ideas for some stories, but I’ll mostly improvise. Naturally, that, and time constraints, means quality and themes will be varied. But I’ll try to churn out some quality e-pulp, that’s for sure.