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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-13 09:58:44 EDT

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@tellthestory.bsky.socialSep 10, 2026, 3:21 PM

This is inspired by a true story about #FrankMatsura. A man meeting him assumes he must only understand pidgin, so Frank plays along, playing the man for a fool. #WIPsnips #teeth

Brief #7 of the dossier goes out this morning, followed by the Imperfect Likeness wallpaper. All free. www.dansato.com

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@tellthestory.bsky.socialSep 8, 2026, 2:31 PM

#FrankMatsura hikes up into the Cascades alone, which gives him time to think about a trauma he'd rather not. #WIPsnips #mental #indiepublishing

Imperfect Likeness launches in less than two months.

But walking gave me a lot of time for contemplation. Walking in the woods requires more mental alertness than walking along a grassy riverbank. One had to be careful not to step into a gopher hole or trip on the raised roots of a large tree or on a rock half-embedded in the dirt. Young pine switches had to be ducked under. Ferns hid slippery moss. Logic would suggest, then, that walking along a forest trail would allow for less contemplative thought than walking in an open field. But walking along the sun-warmed riverbank, my thoughts had been practical and necessary: where I would be able to find shelter for the night, whether that pale patch on a green hill was a house, what sort of hawk I saw circling above the treeline, whether I should gather firewood as I went, how many miles I had walked that day and what would be my stopping point that evening. Walking in the cool, dark forest, however, the forefront of my mind was occupied with walking. But somewhere behind those front-facing thoughts were quieter voices that floated behind my eyes, conversing in language I could only hear in fragmentary form. Many of those thoughts were of Goro. I kept seeing kind, generous Goro, dead in his two-bit flophouse. That awful image drifted up to the surface of my mind again and again, as if I had seen it with my own eyes.
@tellthestory.bsky.socialSep 5, 2026, 2:58 PM

#FrankMatsura. 1903, is about to see Indian Country for the first time with his friend Bill, a surveyor for the Feds. Frank has been an avid admirer of all things modern. #WIPsnips #panel

www.dansato.com

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@tellthestory.bsky.socialSep 3, 2026, 1:51 PM

1909. #FrankMatsura has an encounter with a deer. #WIPsnips #effective

www.dansato.com

Then my eyes unexpectedly focused on a deer, semi-hidden by tree trunks and leafy, low-growing plants. It was a young doe, its black eyes looking back at me, its black-rimmed ears up and alert. I must have been looking in that direction for several minutes and had not seen it, so effective was the deer’s brown and white coat at concealment. Or perhaps the deer had only just walked into my sightline, but had been so stealthy that I hadn’t heard or seen its approach. In any case, the deer appeared to materialize in the leafshadows as if from magic, without sound or movement. After a few minutes, the deer, having decided that I was not a threat, began to walk away, its thin legs picking their way through the undergrowth. I watched it go, its white tail held up like a flag of truce. I longed for my camera. But I fixed my mind upon the retreating animal so that the image would remain in my memory.