It's been suggested among a number of the MFA cohort--a new term that's been used thirty-some times in the last month, so I suppose I may as well take it up as well--that many of us get involved in some blogging. If for no other reason than to ensure we're all writing--something, anything. While I've got my other writing blogs which I felt I had been updating religiously, I realized after taking a quick look at the previous blogs that the aforementioned "religion" is clearly one that I've decided is more work than entertaining. Rather than try to revive a dust-covered, gasping blog from however many years ago, I've opted to perform a... New Mid-February Eve's resolution. (That can exist, right?)
Writing, posts, flash, thoughts, youtube clips, and interactions from the university shall abound. Let's see what kind of horrible journey this turns out to be.
She looks back at her crooked hand, the pen on the table and the card she was filling with loops. She blinks and swallows, but it seems to take forever. I imagine that swallow is very dry. She’s finished writing. At least she thinks she has. Perhaps she forgot what she was doing and finally realized she didn’t know and just wanted to be done. The illegible script looks more like a child drawing waves or birds, I cannot tell which. The pencil marks go off the page and onto the table, where her broken sight was unable to differentiate from marble table to cream paper. She smiles, wide and as loving as I’ve always remembered, but now appearing toothless and stretched. “You give this to Mat, now,” she says and blinks twice. “What’s your name?”
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