I’m supposed to be using my blog more often, adding things to it both old and new, so this weekend I decided I’d fish through things I’d written in days past.
I wrote this story four years ago on a sunny summer’s day in Hammersmith. It came to me pretty much all at once and I wrote it down pretty much all at once. It’s only been slightly edited since. The start is probably the best bit and I guess the message, when it comes, is very much on the nose.
I’ve written the odd short story over the years and while I’ve sent a few away to be published, none have yet been accepted. TToPE wasn’t one I ever sent away, partly because I can’t imagine who would publish it. That’s largely irrelevant anyway, because the point of stories is not to get them published, but to get them read.
To that end, I’m posting it up here.