For the Write It Anyway writing contest:
Tell the story your voice has been trying to write… not just about writing, but what it means to you. (Genre—double Drabble—fiction.)
Note from Ginny: OMG, this was hard to write! I couldn’t decide which way to go! At first I wrote a 750-word fictionalized memoir. That got it on the page at least. Finally I decided to do the drabble but had to do a Double Drabble to get the story across. There’s no way I’m gonna win, but I needed to tell it.
Brilliance is a love language. (Ginny is talking to Nancy.)
“I keep finding people I LOVE—thoroughly.
Most are half my age. Less.
They find me. In Dubuque classroom. Book groups. Craigslist ad for roommate, now Substack!”
“Uh huh.”
“To love, methinks, is to love. Full-stop.
“Oh wait, I gotta go visit Jeff.
He’ll be waiting. Can I call you back?”
(At the visiting booth) “Hey, Coach.”
(Sits on the other side of the partition, picks up the phone ) “Hi, Kid.”
“What’ve you been writing this month?”
“I’m writin’ horror; bet you can’t believe it! Di’n’ja get, ‘Shrieking Kathy?’”
“Naw, jail mail is slow. Prob’ly in the mailroom.”
“I wanna hear what you think. What’s pourin’ from you? I saw your Gatsby article in The Inmate. Knew you’d get published before me. Stunned me then—blushed when I handed back your work. Stuns me now.
(Face flushing): “I’ve been writing poetry again. I’ll send you some.”
A buzzer sounds.
(With a grin but near tears) “See ya next month.”
“I’ll be here. Where else would I be on visitor’s day?”
He turns to go, waiting for the guard.
Jeff leaves the women’s prison as Ginny’s led back to her cell.
The End
(Epilogue): Ginny got swept up in the “Me Too” movement, was arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor for the Notes written in Jeff’s journal and on his papers. She pled guilty, is spending 5 years in the Iowa Women’s Correctional Facility. Jeff has since turned 18; he can now visit her in prison.
Song Lyrics
**Brilliance is a love language.**
“I keep finding people I LOVE—thoroughly.
Most are half my age--Less.
They find me. In a Dubuque classroom. At a ook group. In a craigslist ad for a roommate. Now Substack.”
“Uh huh.”
“To love, methinks, is to love. Full-stop.
“Oh wait, I gotta go visit Jeff.
He’ll be waiting. Can I call you back?”
“Hey, Coach.”
“Hi, Kid.”
“What’ve you been writing this month?”
“I’m writin’ horror; bet you can’t believe it. Didn’t you get, ‘Shrieking Kathy?’”
“Naw, jail mail is slow. Prob’ly in the mailroom.”
“I wanna hear what you think.
What’s pourin’ from you?
I saw your Gatsby article in The Inmate.
Knew you’d get published before me.
You stunned me then—
blushed when I handed back your work.
You stun me now.
“I’ve been writing poetry again. I’ll send you some.”
A buzzer sounds.
**With a grin but near tears**
“See ya next month.”
“I’ll be here.
Where else would I be on visitor’s day?”
He turns to go, waiting for the guard.
Jeff leaves the women’s prison as Ginny is led back to her cell.
**Swept up in the Epstein scandal, she.
Was arrested and pled guilty for
adding to corruption of a minor, yeah
She’s doing time, she
Five years in a women’s prison, No
