Almost missed a day. Been volunteering at a car show in San Diego. Car shows are funny: most of the people are nice, and an appreciable percentage are terrific and very interesting...but overall I feel like a fish out of water. It's sort of like the craziness of college admissions: people know an unbelievable amount about their car, but the knowledge comes across like they're announcing a 1600 on their SAT's. Where's the love in that? Where's the passion? People seem passionate about...their own success.
Still, the sight and sound of a 1930 Isotta Fraschini roadster is pretty cool!
Returning to the Horror Flash Fiction Book.
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Going to try and do one a day in this style until all the drawings are done.
The Last Pimple
Story here.
Moonlight Hitcher
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