The ToC (table of contents) for my first "REAL_ASS" book, a short story collection called Yawns & Licks. Some of these are failed novella attempts that I'm heavily editing, others are actual, fairly long short stories (a few are over 5K words) that I'm umm also heavily editing (I suppose the distinction is moot and/or insignificant).They're pretty old––and definitely embarrassing in many ways––but my brain thought of them and I am adamant about their having a place in this world. What they lack in value/style/(?) they easily make up for in sheer weirdness. And I appreciate them being there in that Google Drive folder. I will let them out to play soon enough. Just giving them a bath **wink wink**. (Get it? I switched to an analogy where they were like a pet or some other animal. But they're really just short stories. That's called Writing 101.)
Here is a S N E A K Y ~ P E E K Y of ¶ Numer Uno of the 2nd story, "Arris."
I look out my window. The window just seems like a random square cut out of one of the walls in a room in this house. It doesn’t seem like a real window, or a window in a considered “window” kind of way. And I see people below, mostly walking on paths. Crisscrossing on paths or otherwise. Outside this window, I see these people I will never meet. Most of the people are walking on neatly constructed stone paths. Some other people, though, they are walking on the grass. But they are merely finding their way to the same stone paths, even if they just touch a few of the stones on the stone paths on the way to where they are ultimately heading. Most likely this is what these people are doing. They are all heading somewhere. Even if somewhere is nowhere.
