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Fiction With Friction

25 März, 2010 (11:29) | Literature | By: pooq

The author had a conversation with his editor who asked for some kind of story. It had to be an erotic story which needed to contain the word or at least an association to the word „red“. Red in connection with romantic I suppose and not with communism. Well for some reason the author denied to write such a story as he has already written one before which he now offers as an excerpt to read.

When I remember my last conversation with my editor it somehow went on differently:

Me: Hi editor. I have this new story ready you asked for.

Editor: Eh, sorry what was your name again?

Me: It’s me pooq. But don’t bother. I have the story ready. Many stories actually. When will they be published?

Editor: Are you sure that I really know you?

Me: Well knowing each other is somehow valued too high, isn’t it? I got your number from the contacts page of your publishing house. So what about the story then? … Hello? Sir?… Are you still there? I think there must be something wrong with the line?