Strange Things Happen
In May when I started planning my trip to Scotland and Ireland with my father, I played around on Expedia.com for days, searching for the most economical meeting place and starting point for our trip. This place turned out to be Edinburgh, which was excellent because I have a couple of writerly friends there, M.J. Nicholls and Laura Guthrie, whom I’d never met face-to-face.
My first night in Edinburgh couldn’t have been better. We laughed, talked about writing, our writing, the contest, and the death of a close friend. It was rarely awkward. I was able to give Mark his half of the prize money. At one point Laura took out her notebook and wrote a fairly long poem from memory—a beautifully surreal love poem. It’s going to be anthologized this year. And then Mark gave me a Lucy Ellmann book that I was having trouble getting. I gave him a postcard. Yeah, a postcard. The picture I took of the Bridge of Sighs was crap, so I bought a postcard.
Christmas ‘Neath the Bridge of Sighs is forthcoming in Strange Circle Magazine.
I must be off,