Since I’m on a retrospective bent with fictional shorts, you can drift by this one if you have time on your hands. Finding Miss Right, from back in 2015. Some women have your name on them – like a bullet or a nail in the road…The concept is explored in this short.
I enjoy writing shorts because they’re one-topic usually, a few paragraphs to convey emotions, some complexity, and then I’m off and on to something else.
The problem with writing true stories is that nobody believes them. You have to fictionalize to make some things acceptable, or drift into science fiction where you can write what you want in the name of fiction and have the action taking place somewhere other than Earth. A mirror reflects, but not precisely, because of the reverse effect that it gives you and the two-dimensional nature of the polished glass. That notwithstanding, I like including mirrors in stories.
I knew a crazy woman once, who kept rubbing soap on the mirrors in her house so that she couldn’t see herself distinctly. She could have broken the mirrors, but that wasn’t the effect that she was after. You will ask, “What is crazy, LL?” Now that is a question for the ages isn’t it?
A Season of Ghosts
The holiday season is a season of ghosts (father, brother, close friends, etc) for me, because I lost a lot of my family and those closest to me during this particular time of the year, where days are short, the darkness pervades, and there is an expectation that everything is merry and bright. fa-la-la. So it’s not unusual that I throw myself into work, and the distractions that work can bring. But there is still the night, isn’t there? Unless I bounce across the equator, and I’m not doing that this year.
Enough of the morose, this is also the season of the tamale. They take a lot of effort to make and they’re more likely available at this time of year. It’s not easy to find good ones. I know of a family restaurant who takes on a “tamale lady” (a crone from the Mexican interior) in December to manage their tamale production. I think that’s the secret of great tamales. You need somebody who has been making them all their lives and absorbed every single secret recipe they came across. They also whip the lard that goes into the masa, to make it lighter. They’re careful in the selection of meat and they are even more cautious in the choice of seasoning. The gentle flavor of chili has to be there but in such a way that you don’t even know that’s what it is. All you judge is that the tamale is perfect. Is there such a thing as a perfect tamale? Likely not.
But there is no such thing as an imperfect sky. That gives hope, doesn’t it?