Well, here I am, joining you on the last full day of my undergraduate career at Illinois Wesleyan University. I can’t guarantee that I will stop writing these moody pieces about my old world coming apart in favour of one much more adventurous and terrifying but I can at least assure you that the pieces will be coming quicker. And probably of better quality. I seem to think better when I don’t have David Foster Wallace breathing down my neck.
This intro’s a short one because I said so!
Word Count: 100
Genre: Creative Non-Fiction
I can’t guarantee that westward is the way to go, but churches face east. And now we’re to be masters of our own fates, right? Gods of our own realms?
That’s what it’ll say on our diplomas, at least. And if they don’t, I have Sharpies.
I can see something in my classmate’s eyes now. I see it in the eyes of a mother with her still-bloody newborn in her arms— a look of awe towards what was made by sheer desire.
Now, following the light of the sun we leave the old world…
We’ll be sure to look back.
The next time you hear from me, I’ll be a college graduate. I doubt I’ll actually be any smarter. After all, leaving this old world makes me realize that a lot of what’s out there in the new world isn’t necessarily better or smarter or brighter or really even newer than what I know- it’s just weird again. And there’s so much weird out there now that it will probably take lifetimes to unravel it out.
That sounds like its own micro Friday Fictioneers.
Good luck, you brave writer folk!