Mad experiments and burnt eyebrows in the arena of literature
A really old story, here, but I decided to edit it and cut it down for flashland here at the blog. Tis the season...
I guess all christmas memories aren't perfect. Love the story.
Beautifully written and realistic, but so sad...
Sounds like his nightlight was cracked, and his parents were cracking. I suppose sometime the old ones are good ones, eh Bryan?And I'm curious to know what they were drinking. Whiskey seems like it would be too dark. Brandy? Wine? It doesn't really matter because poor little Simeon only had one thing to compare it to, but it is kind of fun to wonder.
Thank God for Linus, I was really going to have to sob at the end. This right here is why I will never write realistic fiction for kids. Just too sad.
p.s. it was beautifully written, though, as always. :)
I'll write a sequel with a giant space blaster in it.:)
"Simeon stared up at his parents, his moon-face pale and round, soft, carrying with it the last wisps of wolfish dreams. Close still, just beneath his skin and tangled together, the fear of fur and teeth, the excitement of lights and stockings and presents. All tangled."So gorgeous I had to read it twice.
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