Well, I’ve caught something of a cold over the weekend. Feel fairly miserable and disjointed. Can’t hold my thoughts together. Trying to write is hard; my reserves of self-control are so depleted. All I want to do is nap or zone out. I don’t want to put any thought to anything. I’ve been trying to put together a bunch of my short stories to experiment with self-publishing. I had really hoped to attack the last of these short stories and get a conclusion on paper today, but that’s not happening. Anyway, for lack of a better idea, here are the working titles of the short stories and a quick synopsis for each:
Ships in the Night: A judge and his mistress discuss murder.
The Pornographer: A man accidentally takes a picture of a ghost.
Ghosted: A man has a ghoul-friend.
From Salem: Zombies, communists, and hymns.
The Last Thing I stole: A young man reads the memoir of his grandfather, a second-story man.
The Death of my Master: A fantasy, narrative poem that took way too long to write.
The Judgement: A man goes to see his friend’s final paintings.
Input, Output: A murderer explains himself.
A Tale Told in the Fog: Nautical vampire.
Narratio Nemenis: A camping trip at a haunted castle.
Tale Told 
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