The Dialectic Commuters

In the Grand Central Hall of an unnamed city, writhing throngs of people bolted feverishly towards their waiting train. A few loners obstructed their smooth passage as they gazed lapidified at the billboard of their quotidian musings. 

No faction bothered about etiquette; their eyes betrayed pall torpor. 

Meanwhile, outside the Hall, the God Plutonium gave the City a nuclear makeover.

Their pre-Socratic strife would eventually outlast Armageddon.



Comments

Goswinus said…
Not outright rejected piece of micro-fiction, but Neon Literary Magazine won't be publishing this piece for their upcoming anthology of micro-fiction, Battery Pack.

They said it was really tough decision; in just three months they received over three hundred stories to pick from, and whittling them down to just six was a much more difficult task than initially imagined. With the other short fiction rejected, I can be forgiven to see a pattern emerging...
Anonymous said…
You can go one of two ways...lower your writing standards to go mainstream enough which is what such places tend to want.
Or stick to your guns, gather up your work and self publish.
Am looking forward to your first book of work. ;)
Goswinus said…
Maybe I am too cerebral, too avant-garde for their taste! LOL
So, I decided to set aside a designated day or two per week and go through, and amend, my work, past and present. Then self publish (through Amazon), my stepdaughter can help with that, she can format the book for me and make sure it's ready to set up.
I have no patience to spare for the verdict of professional editors and publishers; to wait for them to switch on the green light, is like waiting for Godot. And we know he never showed up, don't we? ;)

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