“But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retarts: Already with thee! Tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,”
– Keats (Ode To A Nightingale)
Writing is Immortality
The cursor on the screen still blinked, the story now finally inked. Centuries later, she’d put pen down to paper, her guilt now finally in print.
The agent on the phone, to the writer unknown, outlined a few edits to the tale, but all were spoken to no avail. The writer was adamant that not a detail lay dormant of the truth she had harboured too long.
If only she hadn’t done that which was wrong.
Continue reading “#Nightgale Flash Fiction 4 of 4”
