Fiction Korner

Dear Friends,

Today I announce with a heavy heart my untimely resignation from The Kreation Korner. This decision was not an easy one but, in light of a recent personal crisis, was unavoidable. For nearly a year, I had been convinced I had reached a state of pure Kreative fulfillment and stability through Colonism, a practice bereft of insidious narrative. Unfortunately, this bliss was not to last. Yesterday, after I came out of my writing trance, I was shocked to find my work riddled with words, phrases and eventually even coherent sentences. This non-Colonist content seemed to have appeared in the work spontaneously, as if of its own will. This led me to the deeply troubling conclusion that, try as I might to the contrary, I cannot prevent the rough beast of narrative from asserting itself in my expression. All I can do to mitigate its progress as it slouches ever forward is to slam shut my Kreative aperture, to stifle its banshee cry in some modest way. Though I can't fully vanquish the beast, I can slow it somewhat by severing a gnarled pinky toe through vowing to never again write a single word. Rather than acting as an agent of deception and manipulation, I will do something productive with my time. I intend to pursue a childhood dream of working as a brakeman for a short-line railroad. Shunting freight is an honest day's work, and I sincerely hope it will set me on the track towards redemption. I leave you with my final story, the fruit of yesterday's fateful labor. May it serve as a stern admonition to not take lightly the creeping, corrupting influence of narrative in fiction.

Best,

Jawn Steighmeaus

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::::::agh::::ugh:::agh!::ugh!

:::agh!

agh, agh!!!:::::::::::::

agh, ugh::::agh, ugh::::::::::::::::

agh-ugh, aghugh

augh!!:::::::::augured out::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::stump::::::::::::::::::::::::::hole:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

::::::::::::::::big::::::::::::::::::::augh::::::::::::::::enough:::::stuff:::::::snuff:::::snuff box on the mantle we received at our house-warming party. The jade lid was a perfect metaphor for the life we shared--smooth and functional with an understated beauty, a beauty that could steal a sailor from the sea. One day, we discovered the jade snuff box was cursed. That was kind of awkward.