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Showing posts from May, 2010

Make...stories?

I'm reading Neil Gaiman's wonderful short fiction anthology, "Fragile Things", and one of his stories in there is his only personal ghost story, "The Flints of Memory Lane". It reminded me so starkly of MY only personal ghost story that I think I have to get it down. I've not told it, or even thought of it, in years, but perhaps I can do it justice... The thing about seeing something vanish, really disappear, is how subtle it is. I know, that sounds weird- some bleeding great big THING looming in front of you, gone, poof, like a fart in the wind (except it's your eyes and not your nose that are fooled), and you'd think subtle is the last word one would use to describe it, but there it is. It's funny, actually- I don't really remember how old I was at the time. I can guess- somewhere between 14 and 17, because I was only out at the park for the six summers between when I was 14 and 20, and I clearly remember that I was in high school at