sovay | My friend has problems with winter and autumn

I slept very badly last night. My neck was screaming no matter the combination of pillows or positions, I couldn't make myself just stay up through the night, and when I finally passed out sometime after it was light, I dreamed that my eyes were infected and growing shut, oozing blood like mascara between little stiff surgical spikes of lashes, and I was cutting strips out of my wrists by an abandoned train station, watching things come across the tracks that were not the ghosts of trains, but liked to look like them long enough to decoy the curious out in front of their lights and their hurtling, insubstantial, deadly speed (I don't know if that's

ashlyme or

cucumberseed, but you can have your muse back now). I woke up to the news that my dentist's appointment tomorrow has been canceled and the only time I can be seen before the new year is this afternoon, so I'm leaving the house in half an hour and I'll hope to have some day left over afterward, but I'm not confident. Nevertheless.

My story "The True Alchemist" has been accepted by Not One of Us. It was written for

ashlyme, based on a dream of writing for him; the title is taken from one of his own stories, Autumn is the true alchemist. It came on suddenly when I was just making some tea. It's very short, but it's longer than flash, and I am extremely happy with it right now for this among other reasons. (Other reasons including that its intended recipient likes it, which is important.)

While we're on the subject of NOU,

lesser_celery is still looking for stories for the annual one-off—shorter pieces preferred—and the spring issue is wide open for fiction and poetry. Go forth and alienate. I have to see a man about getting my teeth poked at.

My friend has problems with winter and autumn

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