It's Not You, It's Me

I just checked my e-mail and found that Rob over at Six Sentences included one of my chunks in his most recent effort called Half A World Away. That was a cool surprise. I submitted "Singing Lesson" - about 800 words  - to decomP literary magazine tonight. I took out the links to You Tube videos, though I like having them in there if only it was a quicker transition from story to video and back again.

I'm semi-delirious after working 20 hour days for the last 7 days and nights. Should get myself some shut eye while it's quiet here. I'm at work now.

It’s Not You, It’s Me
by Glen Green

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to slander
Fairbanks and its people, most of whom are fiercely
independent, rugged, able, friendly, funny, hospitable
and colorful as all hell. "There's only two kinds of
people up here - people who wouldn't live anywhere
else and people who couldn't live anywhere else."

Winter lasts forever there and, at its peak, there's
three hours of twilight taking the place of the sun.
Just getting out of bed is a hero's journey, yet the
people there somehow laugh and play and work and
love and dance, and I'm telling you, some of those
smiles will thaw you all the way through. I found a
door there that opened upon a dark passage, and
when I "hellooed" in something "hellooed" right back,
and so I entered of my own free will. But I did have
scruples, and - just like the man said - because of
those, I would lead one confusing fucking life.