I'm a story addict. I seek them out and hoard them like an old lady does cats. I write for my High School newspaper, and the city newspaper as well. I'm on my way. So when an old woman named Exie writes me and tells me she wants to "share her story of failure" with me, I can't resist.
That is my first mistake.
Now, Exie weaves a tale about her days as a cocktail waitress at her drunken father's bar in The Great Depression, in a building with a secret all it's own, with a dream of escape and a love never realized.
She warns me that if I hear her story of defeat, I might become trapped by it myself.
But I don't believe her.
That is my last mistake.
That is my first mistake.
Now, Exie weaves a tale about her days as a cocktail waitress at her drunken father's bar in The Great Depression, in a building with a secret all it's own, with a dream of escape and a love never realized.
She warns me that if I hear her story of defeat, I might become trapped by it myself.
But I don't believe her.
That is my last mistake.
I love this . . . what a very cool concept!
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