Son of a . . .

So, a very, very quick blog post here (I owe you a Word Count post and a Write Every Day post and probably another post, but this one I want to get out there). Probably ten years or more ago I wrote a short story. It was about 5,000 words. Nothing special, though I liked the setup and the ending and I've always meant to go back and give it a second draft.

But I lost it.

I looked everywhere for that story. Every-frigging-where. I literally could not believe, with how fastidious I am about saving things and backing them up and backing up the backups . . . that I could have lost it.

But I lost it.

Until tonight.

Where was it? In my stupid Dropbox folder where it should have been. The whole time.

Seriously.

I've done search upon search upon search and the damned thing never came up. Tonight, browsing for something else entirely . . . I found it.

The name of the story is The Lurker on the Terrace. It's a little Lovecraftian bit of fun. And I'm going to find the time to (a) put it somewhere I won't lose it again, and (b) see if I can't have some fun tidying it up.

Just thought I'd share.