All in Fiction

The Artist

The cursor on the screen blinked at him tauntingly for the third night in a row. He couldn't think of a single verse, line, or word to write. Each time he tried his mind would go as blank as the page in front of him.

Sweet Summer

Some days ago, I was asked about you. So, I told them. I told them how you’re like a sweet summer day. But, as you know, there are also things I didn’t tell them.”

The Sign That Was

"The judge will see to the punishment! Where is this drunken driver?” Foaming at his mouth, Barabaninian’s eyes darted everywhere as if they’d return to the scene of the crime. “Or perhaps it was their bestial buffalo. I could smell their droppings from my front door. Either way, this buffalo wagon must be found before it escapes the town!"

The Opera

“Anne’s eyes followed the people hurrying along the white marble stairs, eager to find their friends and acquaintances as it was important to mingle. But she was content as she was, observing. Then Olavi walked in.”

Letter to Sebastian Booker

The doctors think I have gone mad, but that is not true at all. My mind is perfectly clear, like a glass roof after rain. I know there is no reasonable explanation for the things happening inside this house. That is why I refuse to speak about them, and C. I do not want to utter her name fully, even on this paper, for I fear it may only attract more things to happen.