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Chasing the Empty

Reading Time: 2 minutes

This micro-fiction piece was inspired by the writing prompt “newsletter.” For this creative exercise, I wanted draw from my own experience (where getting sign-ups often feels like begging for pocket lint), I created a character who faces the same stubborn struggle.

The focus was on capturing that frustration with a playful, offbeat tone — letting the world tip just slightly sideways without losing its heart.


Every Tuesday, Jasper flipped the sign on his mailbox to “YES,” sat at his cracked laptop, and prepared himself for the rush of absolutely no subscribers.

He wrote things like:


“Get tips!”
“Free things, maybe!”
“Words you didn’t know you needed!”

And still, the void.

One afternoon — after a breakfast of lukewarm coffee and one heroic slice of processed cheese — Jasper decided it was time for war.

He armed himself with a pencil, a paper crown, and a questionable business plan: go door to door and be the newsletter.

The first house was Mrs. Kibble’s. She opened the door and immediately dropped a head of lettuce in fear. Jasper bowed so low his paper crown hit the porch. “Good news awaits you, dear friend,” he said. “It’s me.”

Mrs. Kibble kicked the lettuce at him and shut the door. Progress.

By the time Jasper reached the end of the street, he had earned:

  • Two restraining orders.
  • One handshake (a pity handshake).
  • And three coupons for half-price smoothies, because the manager said, “You seem like you need this.”

Returning home, he slumped into his chair, paper crown sideways, and typed into his newsletter draft:

When the world forgets your name, you tattoo it on the sky.

Then, something miraculous happened.
One subscriber.
An email: “Please take me off this list.”

Victory, he thought. Victory smells like melting plastic and missed opportunities, but it’s still victory.

So Jasper printed out his “newsletter” — a single sheet that read:

“Hope is a sandwich you build one crumb at a time.”

— and he mailed it to himself.

Standing by the mailbox, he smiled.

Tomorrow, he would flip the sign to “MAYBE.”

© 2025 Eric Montgomery

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