The Letters
Once upon a time I wrote a novella. I fell in love with this, and I always thought that it was some kind of magnum opus. ..my great work. But I put it out there in the world and no one, save a couple of m y closest friends, took a look at it. Is this a sign that my judgment is a bit off? At least in regards to my own writing. To tell you the truth, I loved, adored, treasured that little story. If I could have held the story in my hands I would have done so, and maybe even put the cutest little ribbon around its neck and patted the top of its wee head. Here's a bit of it: He would hold it first, gently, between his fingers, gaze at his name written in a hand as fine as calligraphy. Harper Mason scrawled in elegant black ink against an eggshell white background. Whether the pen was engraved and gold plated or the ninety-nine cent variety from the drug store, he could never guess. To him, there never was a finer specimen of perfect penmanship to behold. ...