I told him to burn the note. At the time it seemed like sound advice; the last thing we needed was for word to get out that she had killed herself. Dan listened to me without question, his sweaty hands fumbling with the matches in the moonlit room. My heart still goes out to him as I picture how he knelt on that creaky hardwood floor next to the fireplace. We stared transfixed, the light bouncing off our faces as the flames lapped at the paper, turning it quickly to a brittle ash.
So I just finished up my first short story. It’s about a vampire who loves poetry! I wrote it about a year ago for the first TOME anthology, but it needed a lot of editing, and I wasn’t feeling so confident about it so I shelved it permanently. Or so I thought…
Months go by, and after a lot of encouragement from old friend Michael Conrad (thank you by the way!), I have finally edited it down to a point where I suppose I can live with it. (sigh, FINE)
At this point my fight or flight instinct is kicking in, and I want to wave my hands in the air at all of you yelling, “it’s still a work in progress!” and “It’s my first short story!” and (more begging I guess) “Please be gentle!” But more importantly than all that, I am proud to have finished by very own 8,200 word short story about a vampire!!! :D *pose*
The story short was originally accompanied with some pictures— I don’t have the files anymore, but I made due with some photographs of the printed version. Hopefully it adds to the creepiness, and maybe one day I’ll draw more of them, better ones, put ‘em all together, cook ‘em in a stew… until then.