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wonderwaffles

Beloit, WI

Member Since 2005

Followers 10 Following 78

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Tuesday Sep 14, 2010

Sep 14, 2010
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Just finished editing my most recent short story and ready to send it off to the grist mill!

Here's a snippet:



My friend cuts herself, and tells me a story about the end of the world.

When the world was created, it had all the love there was ever going to be. It was tangled up in everything. It stuck in the trees, littered the ground like leaves, and clogged peoples drains. There was so much love that it became a nuisance, that people would shovel great big buckets of it to the side of the road. People would burn it, bury it, spray for it. They would shoot it into space so that they could walk to the store without falling all over it. Love was like bad weather to them. At the beginning of time, love was heavy snow.

As people burned and ate and buried love, there became less of it. It faded with time, and so people grew apart. Some people saw it fading, and hoarded it, and they had more love more than others. When it was finally mostly gone, everyone had gotten so used to it that no one wanted to be without it, so they fought each other and killed each other, because then there would be more love for them. If there were less people, there would be more love left for those still alive. This was why love was created in the first place: to kill everyone.

She tells me that theres barely any real love left today, and her blood drips into the salty sea. She tells me that there is plenty of sex and stumbles and meaningless comfortable relationships, but true love is a rare and unusual and dangerous thing, eager to destroy us all with our hunger for it. Sometimes the love is locked in a vault. Sometimes it is buried in a cave. Sometimes it is high above the earth, frozen in a mountain glacier and guarded by a troupe of opera-singing yetis who wear bowties. She says that the love thats left wont last forever, and that we could run out of it any day now. When the last of the love fades away, then it is Judgment Day.

The End is Near.



AND THEN IT GETS EVEN BETTER. I gotta write a cover letter for it, so here's hoping I can summarize the plot of what is essentially an extended existential meditation on the worth of life/a retelling of the Orpheus/Eurydice myth!

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