Hmm, I've managed to finish my cyclone story that I started about, oh, three years ago.

It's called Shelter and it's got something to do with love being blind. In the sense that sometimes love can be a complete waste of time for one of the parties. Unless, of course, you fall in love with a stone. Because, let's face it, you always know where you are when you're in bed with an inanimate object. Especially if she's called Maria.

Anyhow, Shelter is about 12,000 words. It's the third short story I've completed this year, alongside Straitjacket Blues and Camaraderie. I guess the plan is to keep writing shorter fiction because I just don't have it in me to write another bastard novel and put out an anthology of six or seven stories next year.

Obviously I'll also be announcing this publishing sensation via FaceBook and Twitter. Oh, hang on, I'm not on either as you need friends for that sort of thing. Guess I'll just tell myself all about it on this blog instead.

I don't know about you but I'm already looking forward to Shelter's miniscule sales and baffled reviews. I'm sure I can rely on you for that.