My Book Stinks

But not like you might think.

Image by Vicki Roberts from Pixabay

So I am writing a book. I didn’t even know it until it started to smell. It started with a real short story while I let the coffee steep. The pleasant smell of arabica filled the pages deep. Some winter flowers wrote themselves. I put them in the keep.

Then something stank just like a skunk. I checked beneath the sink. I’d left a character to himself. I really…

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Chris Weber

I am a curious communication scholar. I write about the things that I learn and attempt to understand. Poetry, fiction, and everything else.