STORYSPACE: Pigeon and Shoe – Influence
Haven’t been inspired to work on this piece for a while, yet in the middle of nailing a corner together in the frameshop, I got this: She ran her hand along the edge of summer… Which with a bit of coaxing became this:
She ran her hand along the edge of summer, touching the overhead branches that drooped with the weight of the sun. A shiver shook her bones, sent them to sing like a tuning fork plucked by the long reach of September. Cold wind remembered nibbled away at her skin. She paused to button the front of her sweater, her fingers melting in the mink coat her mind wore.
I need to read McCarthy, Gay, poetry. I’m wandering too far from the fountain with the narratives I’m currently reading. I need to read more hypertext as well. We are what we eat; what our mind chews on and swallows, what makes us smack our lips with delight.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology