Wednesday, September 5, 2012

I am obsessed with checking my entry status. I look at my email at odd times day and night thinking, well, maybe they are up early. Perhaps they are working late. Who's they? The lovely folks at Esquire. The runners of the 2012 Short Short Fiction contest. The keepers of my entry. The masters of my domain.

I wrote 10 entries. I could only enter one. The one I chose skirts the bounds of impropriety, despite this caveat:

"Sponsor reserves the right in its sole and unfettered discretion to disqualify any entry that it believes contains obscene, offensive or inappropriate content, that does not comply with these official rules or that is not consistent with the spirit or theme of the contest."

It came down to my heart. It was my favorite story. It is my favorite story. And if I entered another and didn't make it to the finals, I would have kicked myself. Finalists will be notified on or about September 15. It's coming fast, but not fast enough...

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