by Liam Scheff
A blitzkrieg of writing. Fifteen days, one hour each, one piece of fiction. No major edits, presented to the public for rumination, consideration, conflagration, prognostication, deprivation, elevation, condemnation, relaxation, laughter, pour faire rire, rigolo, scherzo, broma, drama, deep-massaging, deep-fatiguing, enervation, pore-cleansing, head-unwrenching, unclenching and unstenching…and more, more, more.
Because it’s hard to write when the nuclear dust cloud is on the horizon. Because it’s easy to feel afraid and not discuss the fear. Because we misunderstand each other too easily, and we all need another chance to say,
“That’s not what I meant, that’s not what I meant at all.”
(Do I dare eat a peach?)
Some of these will become short stories and be expanded, fluffed up, fattened with good chocolate, and siphoned into a book.
Some will exist only as a passing view on our rough edges and failed dreams.
It’s Fifteen by Fifteen.
Writing exercise publique polemique extraordinaire.
Je vous invite.