I actually wrote the endnote before the beginningnote (?) today. And then I failed to spell “transmission” five times in a row. So I’m glad that endnote is all the way down there where I can’t look at its shame.
Title: Airborne Dreams
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
I wanted to bring our neighborhood together. Nobody hardly even saw each other outside anymore (we were falsely labeled a ghost town by Wikipedia). So I read up on the Wright Brothers. The wings they made changed the world.
So I showed everybody how to make planes and I told them just how much weight they could carry.
The planes had no names. They were launched from windowsill berths like great white ships. Each one had a dream, wish, or confession— heavy thoughts all— written deep inside its fuselage.
They landed all over town, seeding the ground with new dreams.
I’m thinking I need one of those planes. Except I’m terrible at making them. They always end up looking like hats that nobody can wear. Paper-folding isn’t my thing.
Good luck, you brave writer folk!