Tag Archives: short story

Super short story

“Impossible” invention. Secrecy, chaos, then pursuit.

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Short Story Written, Submitted

I did take the time over vacation at the end of June to write a short story. It depicts an adventure I had a long time ago that involved trying to get out of Mexico after some misadventures with a friend from school. I entered it into a contest that is due to announce the winners sometime in late summer. If I snag a prize I’ll be happy and will blush with humility. If I lose I’ll lash out at the judges for their incompetence and inability to recognize genius. And then I’ll write some more, because I’m driven by failure and anger. I get lazy with success. So I deliberately fail in order to stay creative. Am I sick? I took an online quiz to see if I was insane. They said I was borderline. Not borderline personality, but borderline insane.

When I was in college I took a creative writing class that turned out to be mostly about how to get published in those fucking magazines that pay you two cents per word for crap poety and predictable fiction. It kind of sucked. The format of the class was that we’d all write something, make copies of it for everyone else to read, and then critique each other’s work. I’ll never forget the pride I felt when, after writing a story about a one-armed guy who wore a reindeer puppet as a mitten, half the class loved it and half the class hated it. I got a couple of comments in which people said I should be evaluated by a professional or put away. I loved this. Talk about people not understanding the difference between an author and the story. Sheesh!

I’m about due for a super short story on this site soon. Perhaps later this week. I should make a habit of it.

Rita and I have been making and eating a lot of Korean food lately. It is the new obsession. She is going to make a batch of kimchi this month. I bet it will be excellent!

– Phil Reebius

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A Very Short Story

A water droplet hangs from the edge of a leaf, slowly growing toward critical mass, but before the baby lemur is able to moisten its tongue, the drop falls silently, becomingĀ one with the forest floor. –Phil Reebius

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