Friday, September 30, 2011
The moon waxed crescent yesterday, September 29th. Is it only by chance that my story, "Broken Moon," a story that takes place on the same day, September 29, though in 2032, should be accepted by New Plains Review ? Maybe. But even chance is in the hands of Fortuna, and on this same day, when a most intimate aspect of my life rose and fell and rose again in an unpredictable cycle, its brightness and harshness changing before I could adjust my vision or my footing, so that my temple throbbed and my knees buckled, I know that my fate and my story are in the hands of someone greater than me.