Crossroads,  fiction,  literary magazines,  relationships,  Travel

My long, strange journey to “One Night Only”

Nearly four years ago, I woke one morning with a vivid scene from a dream hanging inside my head. Most nights, I dream crazy shit, but forget it all before I wake. This was different. And rich.

I ran for a pen and paper. Later, I used the scene as the jumping off point for a story that, recently, found public display at The Lowestoft Chronicle. It’s a web journal dedicated to tales of travel.

The story that emerged from my dream became “One Night Only.” It’s absurd, from start to finish, as dreams always are. I took the remembered part of an actual dream and used it as the diving board for a plunge into a litany of imaginative nonsense.

I love the story, because of its non-traditional narrative arc. There is no plot, just nonsense. The reader, I hope, sticks with it, to see where each inexplicable moment will lead. True to form, these moments lead to other inexplicable moments, inside which, a weird logic prevails. How can things make sense while making no sense at all?

Here’s to the spirit of fun. BTW, I was under no chemical influence at the time I wrote this piece. Proof, if ever it was needed, that we don’t need no stinkin’ drugs to act like we’re on drugs. Herewith, “One Night Only.”

Comments Off on My long, strange journey to “One Night Only”