thefly

With the twelfth ring of the hour done the Great Pumpkin retires for another year, still unseen and unheard, so that the latter Autumn makes it's way to lonely and dead winter.

I ride along with that iconic figure of Halloween, not to his place of leisure, but on a journey into my own mind. It is two hours into the first day of November, All Saints Day and the beginning of National Novel Writing Month. Within these thirty days I hope to deliver a new full size work, if not for mass consumption then at least for myself.

Without title nor guide, I wander into the unknown... what will I return with?

See you in December.