A collection of twit fic short pieces written for the 2009 West Port Book Festival, and event held annually in Edinburgh. This year, it's Aug 13-16.
#wpss On their 23rd anniversary, he took his time and made little circles. It made the next 19 years a whole new ballgame.
#wpss The marinara stained the tablecloth and the rug. She locked herself in the bathroom, and tried to bandage her eye.
#wpss He rebuilt the bike, dreaming of his own car. His sister handed him the 6 mm allen wrench. He’d need it for the brake tensioner.
#wpss Venus burned as the enormous comet broke apart in her skies of carbon dioxide and sulfuric acid. The next one was scheduled for June.
#wpss Vivian watched her son push her granddaughter on the swing. She was glad her husband had planted an oak, not a birch.
#wpss Once again, the sunset lit the sky with magnificent scarlet and goldenrod. Someday the dust would settle, and the stars would return.
#wpss Four naked men ran through the library, paper bags on their heads. Finals week affected different people in different ways.
#wpss Rick Boyle quit smoking 35 years ago. It was to be his only triumph in life.
#wpss He passed out every time he tried to give blood. They asked him to stop coming back. It was the same in every city.
#wpss One match left in the book. One smoke left in the pack. One dollar left in her purse. I can’t do it again, she thought. I just can’t.