STORYSPACE & PROJECTS: Fun with Functions
We lost good men to lions and we lost good men to gas.
More to hold us all together, one would think. Tears the sticky web wrought by an all-knowing spider, pain the exquisite experience of all men at some pinpoint in parallels of time.
I don’t care. I like it. It also reveals by a short hop of three Writing Spaces some background of this central relationship, the religious upbringing that can’t help but appear in even the most liberal of thought.
Just as this establishes a place and framework of mind for our heroine, Anne:
But the baby, the youngest of the brood, ah that’s the sweet spot of family life.
I wore the same dress in a different size and just a slightly different style for nine years straight as I grew into them, those swirls of flowers caught up on a bolt, cut out and so lovingly sewn by my mother to save some money.
My sisters still tease and offer hand-me-downs in exchange for last year’s cashmere sweater.
What I’m doing then as I read through what is hopefully one of the finally final times, is polishing words and decorating characters. I’ve thought about adding more time, but that’s not necessary here. This really should be a day’s depression, a backache that leaves you low, a snowstorm that cuts off electricity (and your laptop’s battery has run down). But there’s always room for detail if it shows me one more thing about the characters and their story.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology