by Ari Collins
So. She's gone. Last Christmas Eve. But I haven't cried. Goddamnit, I can't just cry. Well, I cried at the funeral. Sure, I cried loudly then, head down. Loudest even, and the only guy crying, embarrassed. But that was like skipping stones, and nothing since. Maybe if I think of petting Goldberry while they inject-
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Too Much Formalism Makes Me Cry
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This story is adapted from Griefbus over at my blog. The absurd overformalist idea for this 55 is: a 55-word story can be divided into ten sentences of one word, two words, three words... all the way up to ten. You then write a 55-word story using 10 sentences of different sizes. This one did them in ascending order, but you can do them in any order you want. Descending order would be interesting also.
As if a 55-word limit weren't enough formalism...
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