Quick post.

I’ve been bouncing here and there this week.  Went to Springfield, hung out with Torrie and various other folks.  Went to a writing class…and of all days, it was the day that the official announcement came out that my book won Outstanding Masters Thesis.  The department was all a buzz.  They thought it was good for the English department that an English thesis won the award, and good for any of the creative arts students, of any department, in that a work of ficiton won and that helps earn some scholarly respect for said arts.  It was neat.  It made me feel like I wrote something important.


Then, further south, to see Genenda’s first play as director of the Nashville High School.  Congrats Gennie!!!  There were pirates and laughs and the kids all seemed to remember me quite fondly, for only having spent one night working out sword fight choreography with them.


Then to Bloomington for Amy and Jeramie’s place.  Some geeky gaming.  More familiar faces.


Now, I’m back up in Chicagoland, for briefest of pit stops, before heading back down to Springfield all over again.


In writing class, we were handed various, tiny pumpkins and squash and given five minutes to write.  Here’s a quick textual sketch…



Hey, Pumpkin


“I have to go.”


“Why?” I asked.


“It’s almost midnight.  I’ll turn into a pumpkin.”


She grinned and I laughed and pulled her to me in a sigh.  We kissed, hard, and she must have forgotten her need to leave.  Moments went by in fallen leaf whispers.


Then, a desperate moan hatched in her throat and she broke away form me, running down the grove, sobbing.  I gave chase.  I wanted to apologize.  I wanted to ask what I did wrong.  Did I rush things?  But she was so fast.  She vanished, far ahead and I could only follow by the sound of her wailing through the trees.


I came to the edge of the hill and God she was so fast, I couldn’t even see her in the moonlit distance.  All I saw was something round and orange, rolling down the hill, at great speed.  The sound of wailing filled the night.