Oh no. The dreaded words from my English teacher. As thousands of thoughts race through my mind, my debate frame of mind kicks in. Suddenly, I begin mincing words and trying to find deeper meaning in words that have nothing to do with the story I'll be writing itself--yet it's in this frame of mind that my story began fitting together.
Short. I am short. Barely above five foot. There are twelve inches in a foot, and I have a little over five feet making up my height. Hm. My character will be short! And if I am said, nameless, non-existent character, I would want someone who makes me feel tall, yet not too tall as my "sidekick" or supporting character.
Stories. Story? Every person has a story. I want to tell an untold story. But within one story, there are many more stories. I need to tell a story that needs to be told, one painstakingly real yet just far enough away to keep readers safe.
You. Me. I will be writing a story. The story will not be writing itself, no matter how cliche-author-esque I want to get. I will be writing a story, and I will allow my characters to tell a story. They will change, they will grow, and I too will join them on a journey, simply walking along from the other side.
I will be writing a short story, and the reader will read a short story. Yet I will be telling a long tale, I will be teaching a lesson, and my reader will understand this. Life is short. I am short. But lessons? They live as long as we choose to keep them alive.
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