For three days this past fall my dog Tammy and I were trapped in a motel room in the North Carolina mountains. Hurricane Florence was thrashing the slats out of the state even that far inland. It was the two of us and the usual hurricane emergency supplies: cans of deviled ham, some crackers, a few six-packs of Coca-Cola... and not much to do.
So I began writing a short story.
But anything like a smallish piece of prose? The connection couldn't be made. Not until toward the end of this last summer, and maybe someday I'll be able to talk about that.
Suffice it to say, so far I've written three short stories, begun work on another, and have finished the first draft of a one-act stage play (which could easily be adapted into a short film). And then there's the children's book that's in the works.
A few weeks ago I wound up using one of the stories in conjunction with another project. It was the one written in that motel room during the hurricane. And I've contemplated sharing it with a wider audience. This is the second piece that I've completed so far. Perhaps the others will appear on some outlet or another later on. I've uploaded it as an Acrobat file.
So here it is. Submitted for your approval, I present to you:
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