Sometimes, you’ve just got to get the job done.
Many thanks to all of you who came out to my First Ever Public Reading last week – it was awesome to see all of you and hear you laugh at the funny parts.
I’m still trying to get back on the one-story-per-month wagon, and here’s September’s offering: One Man’s Trash. Nothing terribly heavy, just a little Antarctic romp, based on a half-remembered anecdote I picked up downstairs at the Shackleton bar after a deployment, about a rusted iron spearhead that got picked up — with explicit permission, I should add.
The funny thing is that I recently got the full story on that from Ken Vicknair, who was actually involved, and it’s so much stranger and more hilarious than what I made up that I may have to rewrite this someday.
But until I do, I hope you enjoy One Man’s Trash.
(And if you do enjoy it, please leave a comment, or hit the little “clapping hands” icon at the bottom of the story to let me know?)
(Oh: and ask your local bookstore to stock Eight in Three Weeks, too. And floss daily.)