"Is it too late? she said. The boy’s face dropped. Late? he said. Too late to put it back? She nodded her head at the heart. Oh, the boy said, looking down at it. Slowly, the blood was seeping into his napkin. Soon, it would spill off the table and pool on the floor, making a mess. I don’t know, he said."A few weeks ago, I received an email from Daniel Wakahisa, asking if I was interested in writing a piece of fiction for A Shaded View on Fashion Fiction. The project is an offshoot of A Shaded View on Fashion, which is helmed by Diane Pernet, who is something of a fashion icon. He said I could do whatever I wanted, only it should relate to fashion in some way.
Last week, I wrote the story, "The Boy Who Wore His Heart on His Sleeve." It took me about an hour. I had an idea of what I wanted to do. It was merely a matter of banging it out, polishing it, and sending it off.
I can't remember the last time I wrote a short story. It was a good refresher. It's something of a love story, but demented, as ever.
["The Boy Who Wore His Heart on His Sleeve"]