Today's story also appears on the blog of impressively successful author and generally nice guy James Maxey, who held a 100-word story contest of sorts. (The stories were just the entries in the raffle for a copy of his new book of short stories, "There Is No Wheel." I won a copy, which I am looking forward to reading.) James maintains at least two blogs and a truly hellacious pace of writing, most recently writing an entire novel in a week. Dude is nuts. Check his stuff out.
It's the small things that make a life. A chipped diamond ring found on a table tells a story. A sprinkle of glass and tire marks at an intersection tell a different one. Or the receipts in a library copy of "The Prince": lifts for shoes, a power tie, strawberry yogurt, and Taco Bell. Stained.
It's these tiny details that count, that make someone real. I think as many as half the people in the city are my creations, now.
Oh, don't look at me like that. I know you don't believe me. I know everything about you.
The Buddha in the Attic
1 day ago