The other night I decided to go back through my collection of Stephen King books and found one of his short story collections "Everything's Eventual." I re-read the introduction about a short stories becoming a dieing art and thought how sad it would be if they did become a thing of the past, a reminiscence of what once was. The tragedy that would transpire if future generations never know what a short story collection was and the joy that came from them. Then I read the first story "Autopsy Room Four" and found myself on the edge of my seat once again wondering if they, Dr. Arlen and Mr.Baywatch, Peter, would realize he wasn't actually dead in time. I have read this collection of stories many times and knew that Dr. Arlen and Peter would not cut into a live man. But still I was on the edge of my seat, biting my finger nails, screaming in my head "don't do it, don't cut into him...he's still alive!"
My point is it would be such a shame to lose the art of short stories and I wanted to share this with Mr. King and thank him for all the times he has left me in the dark, on the edge of my seat, excited and scare to find out what would happen next.
My point is it would be such a shame to lose the art of short stories and I wanted to share this with Mr. King and thank him for all the times he has left me in the dark, on the edge of my seat, excited and scare to find out what would happen next.