I looked out my attic-office window last night and saw a fresh layer of fluffy snow falling over my street. Whenever it snows, I always feel a strange sense of possibility, as if it were a harbinger or omen. Of course, it’s snowed plenty in Baltimore this winter, and most of it’s seemed to simply be snow. Still, a superstitious person like myself can have a difficult time shaking those mysterious, inexplicable “feelings.” (And really, who even wants to shake themselves that hard?)
When I finally pulled myself away from the window to get back to work, I checked my email (classic writer-proscrastination move), et voilà! I had a note waiting for me from the editors of Natural Bridge saying they wanted to publish my short story, “The Soup.”
Looking out my window now at a snow-painted myrtle tree, there’s a handsome pair of cardinals standing guard and looking back at me.
It’s been a rough few weeks, but–knock on wood–I think everything’s going to be alright. I really do.
Be on the lookout for my new short story “The Soup” with Natural Bridge this fall!
Natural Bridge is always a rewarding combination of the weighty and the whimsical, a literary encounter worth pursuing.
Here’s a teaser of the story to come:
They only needed thirty cherry stone clams for the chowder, but the woman at the counter—wearing gloves and a stocking cap against the chill of the dead iced fish—said that a bag of fifty would be cheaper.
“What do you say, baby?” Frank asked, winking at Louisa from over their grocery list.
“Can’t have too many,” she said, and settled the plastic sack of blond-shelled clams down in the cart, top shelf where their child would’ve sat if they’d ever had one. …