She had a new secret, the strenght of the moon, looking at her

A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

Short fiction seems more targeted - hand grenades of ideas, if you will. When they work, they hit, they explode, and you never forget them. Long fiction feels more like atmosphere: it's a lot smokier and less defined.

You can't kill an idea the way they try to. You can keep it down awhile, but sooner or later it'll come out. Now what you've got to understand is that the wheel's not evil. Never mind what the scared men all tell you. no discovery is good or evil until men make it that way." -The Wheel, John Wtndham

Kneriday'in bakışları zaman geçirmek için amaçsızca etrafta dolanırken birden ortalık aydınlandı. Herkes olduğu yerde dondu, arabalar durdu, nefesler tutuldu. İnsanlar kafalarını yukarı kaldırıp sokağın köşesindeki binaların tepesinde duran devasa ekrana odaklandılar. Oradaydı; herkesin ulaşmaya çalıştığı ve sahip olanların gözü gibi baktığı hazine, bembeyaz bir kurşun kalem şekline bürünmüş, reklamlarda boy gösteriyordu."

Zeynep Paftalı, 12

For me, the short story is not a character sketch, a mouse trap, an epiphany, a slice of suburban life. It is the flowering of a symbol center. It is a poem grafted onto sturdier stock.