One Letter at a Time

Heard this today, connected it almost immediately to my "Letters"; still hazy about the direction of that story.  I'm certain I'll find it, one letter at a time.  Anyways, this song is going on my inspiration list for it.

From their blog:

"Civil Twilight; When the center of the Sun is geometrically 6 degrees below the horizon. This is the limit at which twilight illumination is sufficient, under good weather conditions, for terrestrial objects to be clearly distinguished; at the beginning of morning civil twilight, or end of evening civil twilight the horizon is clearly defined and the brightest stars are visible under good atmospheric conditions in the absence of moonlight or other illumination."

Anatomy

Started a list of story skeletons. Building them up, bone by bone, until I have enough structure to grow muscle & organs. Until they are walking on their own.

Note to self: anatomy lessons 

Letters From Space

A story found me last week.  It's been such a long time since one appeared so clearly, I almost let it fly out the window.  

I've been finding letters. Tucked into corners, on windowsills or in my laundry basket or slipped inside a kitchen drawer. One morning I woke up and found an envelope under my pillow. Another stuck to my ceiling.  Balancing carefully on a chair to reach it, I felt a slight static-like crackling as I peeled it down. But it wasn't static electricity. I don't know what it was. I only find them in the apartment. Never anywhere else, not even just outside the door and certainly never in the mailbox with the bills and advertisements and occasional letters from distant friends. 

 The content of each one varies, the first appeared to be a standard written note, the next a rough sketch of a plant or animal. A few have been what look like maps of stars. None of it is familiar to me. The writing is in a language I have never seen, the shapes almost akin to those of the English alphabet in places, but altered beyond my understanding. The same sort of slight similarity occurs in the drawings.

Swimmer

My mother found me in an abandoned rowboat, washed up on the beach. They didn't know I'd been born in the ocean.

A man, a single fin on his feet, swimming across the television screen as a voice announces him as the longest-breath-holder in the world. Only a moment of my attention. Instant inspiration. An idea forms and will not let me go. Here I lay a fragment of it; but it is the strongest fragment, the piece that stays in my mind and tells me "Here, look here!".