I actually wrote fiction today. Packed up my laptop and went off to Starbucks to write.
Nothing new, I just hacked about 1,600 words off a story I wrote a few years ago. Peeled off the back story stuff, which I'd clung to so ferociously when in the first drafts. Wonderful what a few years of distance can do. I would have still left some of it in, but I was shortening the story so I could submit it for publication and wanted to get the length down to a more magazine friendly length, so the delete button was smoking.
I don't dare post it here, for fear that constitutes "previously published," ruining my grand chances of it getting published. Ahem.
Besides most who read this have likely heard me read from the damn story anyway -- not like I pump the stuff out in volume.
Anyway, here's how it starts -- with an italicized flashback:
"Leaving a trail of wet footprints on the cement of a pool deck, two boys move toward the change room, yelling and snapping towels. Both will be big men, you can see it already in the broadness of the shoulders and the vascular rivers traced across forearms. The darker of the two boys fiddles with a combination lock as he swings a hip against his fair haired friend who has just pulled a sticking bathing suit to his knees. An arm comes up, grabbing, to avoid a fall and a wrestling match from the pool resumes. A tangle of arms and legs, the boys bang against a locker and then down against the wooden planks of the bench bisecting the corridor of metal lockers. Laughing with false menace the two wrangle onto the damp cement floor, bare skin slapping against the cold surface. The wrestling continues, urgent now, until both gasp at wetness against bellies and thighs.
They shower in silence, a grin rising often on the lips of the fair haired boy. He reaches for the shoulder of his friend as they move back to the locker room – the touch is roughly shrugged off. “Hey man, what’re ya doing? Ya becoming a fag, or what?” the olive skinned boy says. Fighting a curious anger, he laughs weakly as he speaks, avoids the eyes of his fair friend whom he realizes he wants to pummel."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Also, I know I am remiss in not getting my Newfoundland photos resized and put in an online album for all to see. Here's a shot across The Narrows -- the entrance to the St. John's harbour. I was playing with depth of field, hoping to keep foreground and the distance all in focus.