Oh, what a fool he must look! One of those sad empty-eyed old men dressed in colorless wool jackets and jeans that slept in the stations at night and shuffled and mumbled their way up and down the passageways all day, noticing and taking, rather than looking for, something to eat or a left-behind mitten or cap.
This is towards the end of the new story I’ve been working on for the past couple days and I’m hoping to tie it all in to a neat little climax that will in effect be a resolution and ending as well. I have been able to follow a linear structure with just a few character revealing backstory episodes and still let the natural rhythm of voice conduct the piece. This, while keeping a secret that weaves through the story that for once in my writing I’ve known about before it’s spilled onto print all by itself.
Or so I hope I have.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology