Yet another blisteringly short short

I’m on a roll—I don’t know what it is, but lately I’ve felt like writing short after short after short. Oddly, I’ve also dropped how long each story is to a mere few hundred words, as if I couldn’t possibly waste a single precious adjective. Oh well, perhaps I’ll regress and head back towards slightly longer shorts, before reattempting the novel I have not yet finished.

As Murakami Haruki says, “If writing novels is like planting a forest, then writing short stories is more like planting a garden.”

Right now it feels more like I am putting a pot-plant in my room.

Oh well, I hope you like my pot-plant, in the company of strangers.

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2 responses to Yet another blisteringly short short

  1. Jason says:

    I like it, it makes me feel peaceful for some reason, gives me the sense of a lazy spring morning, isn't that odd?

    I don't know what "old school Chinese" smells like, but understand how familiar smells and sights can conjure a flood of memories, and this short identified very well with that.

  2. setek says:

    Hahaha thanks, glad you liked it :)

    Funnily enough I was walking to the station yesterday after work and I was hit with some exact combination of scents, it was like hour-or-two after smoking Dunhill Blues, mixed with some French parfum, and I stopped in my tracks thinking Where do I know that smell? Its so familiar!

    I still cant identify where I remember it from, but it reminded me of cold winter nights snuggled up with a warm woolly (not woolen though!) blanket for two.

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