A friend commented on a post at Spinning about aging in that the prose should be turned into a poem. I agree that I can take this off-the-cuff post further, but I think what I’d like to do with it is expand it into short story. There’s a seed of darkness in there that needs to be exposed and as I believe that story seeks its form, I think this needs to be a linear narrative (it deals with time) and need not be of any particularly long length–perhaps even a flash fiction piece to bring out that dark side with the most impact.
I’m thinking of a woman who believes something wrong is happening to her body as she notes the changes of natural aging. Everyone pooh-poohs her anxious complaints and yet, we find that something strange indeed is going on. I like that.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology