Fiction Scraps & Word Shenanigans

A Place For Doing Nothing & Loving It, Like Walking Through Reykjavik At Midnight

December 27, 2022.

Faulkner said to kill every one of your darlings. That seems harsh. You worked hard to write something especially clever. Not to fret. I can take your darlings out to brunch and break it to them gently that they have to go with dignity.

And scene.

January 1st, 2022

The Departure

When the last of the moving vans rattled away down the gravel lane, all that remained was the ticking of the grandfather clock and the sepia photographs bathed in a shaft of light, dust motes dancing on hidden currents.

The house would wait.

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