Tuesday, February 1, 2011


I've been working on a lot of longer pieces lately...hence no posting. So sad, right? Anyway, here's the first paragraph of one.

It's called The Unfortunate Soul

George Puddle was an unfortunate soul. For starters, he was born without feet. At each of his ankles was a fist size stump, so smooth and round that when he held them together it formed an image identical to a baby's behind. In fact, this was the first thing George's mother noticed of her son just moments after delivering him to a cold carpet.

"You have to asses," she said.

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