Want to read a short story?
Just the other day I wrote here on the blog about writer’s block, and it just so happens that I penned a short tale about that very subject a few years ago. I was poking through my files today when I ran across it and I thought, “Aha! Serendipity!”
BY ROBIN LYTHGOE
Such a small whisper couldn’t even begin to penetrate the weighted air holding the room in thrall. Dust motes made timid forays into the single, narrow beam of light sidling in through a clerestory window. Books—beautiful, enchanting, influential, fabulous books—crammed the shelves from floor to ceiling. They teetered in stacks on chairs and on the floor. They balanced along the window ledge. Every one of them had assumed the tight-lipped silence of a group of curmudgeons. Traitors they, refusing to offer even the slightest, most fragile means of escape. Even the glorious maps of places far and near, real and imagined, curled away from their duties. Mute. Contrary. Continue reading Deliver Me: A Short Story