Again, two birds. Drabble and playing around with a rewrite of a scene from the rough draft (OMG, the rough draft version sucks).

They topped a hill and Curtis saw the fog. Thick clouds of mist clung to the corrupted forest ahead in defiance of the bright sun overhead, twisted branches reached out of the sea of white like the fingers of drowning people grasping for the surface.

He stopped to stare and took an unconscious step backwards. "That doesn't look natural."

"Brilliant observation, Clueless," Holly remarked as she walked by.

A shove on his shoulder made him stumble forward; he turned to see Martin glaring at him. "Keep moving."

The three of them followed Avar and Simon as they advanced toward the thick mist, weaving between dead and twisted trunks. Not a speck of green appeared in the branches above or the ground below. Ahead, nothing could be seen but a white wall.

"Keep close," Avar said as they crossed over into fog and the clouds enveloped them.

Curtis stumbled over tangled roots and stones, but he managed to stay near the others. The world around him faded into a field of white mist so dense that his companions appeared only as shadows. Every crunched branch and every kicked rock echoed like thunder in the heavy silence. He tried not to think of what else might be wandering in the fog unseen, listening to their noise.

That’s when the whispering began.

I would make the fixes, E. The way I look at it, even though you may not get a big readership for this piece, you do get valuable experience in incorporating notes. And since you are a writer, that is something you are going to have to do your whole career, so the more practice, the better.

I just nixed my post because it's better expressed as: what Scrappy said.

erika, I think when you're in a professional situation, it's always worth it to do the revisions. There's nothing wrong with having a conversation about it first, if you like, but when you're writing for magazines, online or off, it's always going to be part of the process.

Or, you know, what Scrappy said.

I'm really not sure my plot will work on the smaller scale he seems to want... Which means writing a different story unless I come up with some "Hoke-eats-the-cans-of-salmon" shortcut thing.

erika, how long do you have to turn this around? Can you give it a day or two to digest? Sometimes when I get editorial suggestions, I have the knee-jerk "NOOOOOOOO" response, but then after a couple of days, it subsides enough for me to think things through, and that's considering the lizard brain is also generally at work on it as well.

He didn't say. But I guess I don't have to rush.

I wasn't online, so this is the drabble from the original topic. 100 words exactly, not including the title. As always, I welcome suggestions.

not yet

I ache a little, sometimes, to see the beauty of an autumn dusk. High desert: the geese and hummingbirds cross paths. "Not yet, not yet," they cry, "but soon."

Soon the northern clouds will gather snow. Soon the maples blush, sap thickening, slowing, in their veins. Soon ice and fires and hot drinks on cold nights. Not yet, but soon.

The sun has gone, the sky's yellow with its memory. Smoke from the wildfires drifts languorously across the pines. We stretch and realign ourselves, reconciling with the coming darkness.

And the dusk whispers, "Welcome to the night."

Oh Liese, that's gorgeous.

Liese, that's lovely-- it's got a very poetic feel and cadence.