When I was 19, I wrote a short story for a university creative writing class.
After all these long years, there’s still something about it that gets under my skin. It’s not perfect. It’s far from perfect. It’s also far from most of what I write now. I sometimes think about polishing this up and trying to sell it.
But where the hell would you sell it, these days.
The story is for mature audiences only, and has had a strong upsetting effect on people in the past. Click here if you want, but, again, you’ve been warned.
Somebody Said....