One of the great traditions of my MFA program's winter residency is the New Year's Eve party. We all dress up (I'm not much for dressing up so I'm usually one of the more casually dressed people there). It's a great way to enjoy the ringing in of a new year.
Of course it's a little bittersweet for me this residency, being my last one in the program. I'll have to try to pace myself, since I don't want to be a puddle of emotion and consuming large quantities of alcohol can do that to a person.
But there's something more ominous on the horizon -- The Enders Island Sea Monster, otherwise known as Mystie. The sea monster lurks on New Year's Eve, keeping a careful eye out for unsuspecting and inebriated MFAers to stumble out of Enders House to ambush them. It has an appetite for fiction. Grainy footage shows it to have teeth the size of a scimitar, 6-foot-long fins and a tail thicker than a tree trunk. Some say it has tentacles, too.
Mystie has claimed a laundry list of victims. Many poets and fiction and nonfiction writers have never been seen again after the New Year's Eve party. They were not the first to see a sea monster on the shores of Long Island Sound, nor the last.
Thus, this may be my last blog ever. I pray that I'm not among the victims.