Some flash fiction for an obscure flash fiction contest:
"
A particular oddity
While no one would really care to think much of it, time and again we have acquired reason to expect the existence of objects in settings which can’t be said to be well-suited to them. This entire busyness with the supposed statue which was seen by hikers in the forest is only the latest in a long line of phenomena which, under closer inspection, readily show at least a few common traits. Indeed, had this been simply about a statue, no doubt one which somehow outlived the larger edifice it once served as being its peripheral adornment, references to it would have died out long ago; what allowed this particular oddity to retain some of its potential to cause a certain kind of uneasiness and alarm was the fact that, apparently, at times this statue vanishes, and later on appears again.
On the edge of a glade, resting on autumnal leaves, the stony sighting returns, much like if it was a living wanderer. And while it is rarely seen twice by the same observer – it chose so distant a spot, and so large an interval between two appearances there, that it is simply not practical either to wait for it to return when it’s not there, or for it to go away if it’s there – there are already numerous accounts of its presence in that desolate and rather mournful spot in the glade.
Despite the rarity of the event, and the relatively large number of witnesses to it, it remains a matter of very localized interest: If it was happening in some vast and crowed city, definitely the spectacle would have commanded far more attention. But here? Here the statue gets inevitably noticed, but equally inevitably left without an insight as to what it may be; in this indeed it much resembles an idle wanderer who wishes to be left alone.
"
"
A particular oddity
While no one would really care to think much of it, time and again we have acquired reason to expect the existence of objects in settings which can’t be said to be well-suited to them. This entire busyness with the supposed statue which was seen by hikers in the forest is only the latest in a long line of phenomena which, under closer inspection, readily show at least a few common traits. Indeed, had this been simply about a statue, no doubt one which somehow outlived the larger edifice it once served as being its peripheral adornment, references to it would have died out long ago; what allowed this particular oddity to retain some of its potential to cause a certain kind of uneasiness and alarm was the fact that, apparently, at times this statue vanishes, and later on appears again.
On the edge of a glade, resting on autumnal leaves, the stony sighting returns, much like if it was a living wanderer. And while it is rarely seen twice by the same observer – it chose so distant a spot, and so large an interval between two appearances there, that it is simply not practical either to wait for it to return when it’s not there, or for it to go away if it’s there – there are already numerous accounts of its presence in that desolate and rather mournful spot in the glade.
Despite the rarity of the event, and the relatively large number of witnesses to it, it remains a matter of very localized interest: If it was happening in some vast and crowed city, definitely the spectacle would have commanded far more attention. But here? Here the statue gets inevitably noticed, but equally inevitably left without an insight as to what it may be; in this indeed it much resembles an idle wanderer who wishes to be left alone.
"
It depends upon what the definition of "are" is...
However I take more pride in my creation of a new RPG class: the jester. Writing stand-up comedy is really, really hard. 
I've read Maass's "The Emotional Craft of Fiction," which I've used to infuse "Comes Erebus" with more emotional depth, e.g. my main character is no longer just a stereotypical hero sent down from Central Casting. ... My decision to change this story from mere pulp fiction to a really quality work of science fiction has given me a lot of extra work. 
I don't find that entertaining. It's a very bad habit, and one I broke decades ago.
![[party]](/images/smilies/partytime.gif "Party [party]")
I've pulled out a really fun parody I used to work on. The Count of Monte Banco is a crossover between a fantasy-parody of The Count of Monte Cristo and the economic crash of 2008. 
I'd finished up through Chapter 8, but then I came up against a chasm between it and the rest of the story. I took forays into toying with other chapters, hoping they would show me the way, but no. Plus, Trump's antics eclipsed the Crash of '08. So I moved onto other projects.
Maybe a novella length would fit better. 
So this is what I'm dealing with now
I think maybe I need to change the voice, copying the lighthearted style of, say, Le Petit Prince. This will take much time & work. 
New characters are popping into existence; one current character must be renamed to bring her in line with the plot; hot chocolate is now the ubiquitous beverage or my economy won't collapse when I want it to. I have a new city [talked about only]. If I'd have gone the novella route, Mad King Prometheus would have been axed; now he's back. This is like a barrel of monkeys being tipped over with chaos reigning. 
but there's also the possibility that the universe has a physical edge.
.
