Short Posts

One of the side effects of my health being what it is at present is that I cannot sit for very long at a keyboard.  This is part of why my posts are the size they are.  Even so, some of them have taken a few sessions to write.  Thus, nothing comes out quite how I would like or intend.  (No surprise there, as anyone who writes knows.)

I had hoped this would produce a haiku-like density, and exactitude of detail.  It hasn't.  It has, instead, produced fragments like what we remember of dreams, or the details of old stories rubbed bare.  It is funny how the connective tissue, the plot movements, dissolve over time, and the stark images and bluntest verbs survive.  No wonder opera plots are the way they are.