After days of tweaking and changing images, researching different book spines and thinking about which ones would represent the content of the stories, I have finally produced 16 book spines. I hope you like them. I’m going to spend a while trying to create an interactive bookshelf so you can select a story, find the description and read it.
Read more short stories at Supernova1987
In need of some feedback here. I have two versions of difference. The first used a very cartoon-like thought bubble. The more I looked at it over the course of the day and the photographs I used, the more I felt I hadn’t done justice to the brick. So I produced a more formal image. Feedback and let me know which one you prefer.
See other images stacked in the cupboard in Poetry Jars
Andrea and John didn’t seem to notice, focusing on the first of the bubbles to reach the surface. John reached down, the movement of his arm tracing a glowing arc through the air. Andrea was giggling and running her fingers…
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I’ve managed to put the shelves up so I can stack the Jars of Poetry. Be careful reaching up for the top shelf though. You may need a ladder.
Come wallow thee in the misery of this cage of woe, for tonight I drink the Russian Malady. Tomorrow’s Sun will cast a shadow on the clarity of sadness and raise the ghost of literary regret.
Flash project: write 200 word story on the theme of “Mind your Head.”
In the backwater, plastic walls of laboratory 39 we tried everything to increase the activity in their brains. Aldus, with his brow permanently furrowed peered at the results of countless trials. Magda shuffled up and down, drinking while she poured over data from each permutation of the experiment. Indigo only now admitted that his initial excitement was beginning to wane. He had been convinced these were the creatures identified by the ancients. They were nothing to look upon, but a perfect match for the drawings on the steel temple.
Each attempt started with such promise and yet always produced another dead end. The subjects would show improvements; responding to visual stimulus and spoken instruction. They would develop complex communication amongst themselves. The first time I saw one teaching another to make a cutting tool, I nearly cried. Always they would start to form groups. Always they would destroy each other. Soon we would lose our window of opportunity. We had come so far to find them; across the vast emptiness between our worlds. The steel temple they sent had shown the way and we had followed, only to find their deserts of destruction; the last fruits of their mindless savagery.
Artist Kaya Mar walking with painting in Westminster.