Happy Monday everyone! Hope you all had a lovely morning of over sized checked shirts, licorice tea, and sorting through your papers ...??? (ok, this may not be exactly relevant to you xD) I really like to write short stories and post them but it takes weirdly long to get such posts ready -- that's why I don't do it often. But here I am again, and this time it's all about observing inspiration! I'm not entirely sure I'd consider this a real short story, but I rather like the idea! Have fun!
Just A Saturday Drive
It's one of those cloudy but hot Saturdays and you wish you were back at your desk at home, comfortably wasting time on your laptop, but instead you are sitting in the car accompanying your dad to the store, tolerating the front seat that seems way to straight-backed for some reason.
And what do you do when there's silence between you because the jazz is on trying to keep you relaxed? You look out the window and you watch.
You watch the town pass -- the town so ordinary, so mismatched, so dull. There's nothing noteworthy about those houses, either they are spotless and huge and gray or rundown like shacks. The restaurants too -- would you want to step inside one just for the charm? Oh no, you can't see any charm. Or the stores that line the streets? They are but blocks, chunks of brick, dropped in the first empty lot and painted with a sign that says "mall".
Then finally you pass a bus stop -- or rather, a crooked sign that says it is one -- and in front of your eyes flashes the sight of a young guy sitting on the ground with one knee up, overdressed in his blue sweater with the hood pulled over his head. He has ear buds on and that longish golden hair of his hides his face as he bends over his phone. And you take it all in, and two seconds later it's gone, but for some reason, you still wish you could make him lift his head up and get that hair away from his eyes. You wonder who he was and where he is going.
You keep you eyes on the sidewalks you drive by, observing everyone you see.
That man, putting a guitar into his trunk -- did he just purchase it from that pawnshop? Does he play it? And how well?
Those two women, walking and talking together, did they just meet on the street corner, or have they been bosom friends since they were eleven? Or perhaps they are long-ago rivals, who just made their peace?
And do you ask, as you pass the crowded parking lot of the theatre, what movie is playing inside, and who the star of the show is? And if the star was once as unknown and ordinary as you?
The workmen working on the railroad --- when did they decide to do that for a job? Do they realise they are one reason the world still goes round?
And you think back to that blond boy, don't you, and you wonder whether he ever imagined someone saw him at that bus stop, and that someone preserved that memory?
You watch as you pass by construction, and a bridge, until you finally reach your destination. In the music store, you observe that family looking for instruments just like you. You wonder who is the musician there? Is it that blond girl with glasses who looks about your age? And does she, like you, have a dream, and is she chasing after it even now?
When you leave the store, you notice Teen Challenge on the other side of the street. Do you ask what they do? Or do you imagine the people they have helped, and do you dream of joining them one day?
And that tall woman with black hair and weathered face who walks by quickly before you back up, does she realise that right now you find her peculiarly beautiful?
And you remember then how this all began. That boy with the blue sweater, does he know he was a flash of inspiration to a writer? Does he think that perhaps next week he will be famous to twenty people who read about him from the story she crafted in her mind?
As you continue on your return journey, you keep looking still. That girl with the tattoo on her shoulder -- why did she get it? What does it mean to her?
Those two young Chinese people -- are they married? Or engaged? How did they meet? Or are they by chance a brother and sister? How would you know?
The boy on the corner with that curly chocolate hair ... if there was an apocalypse, how do you know he isn't the chosen one to save the world? Or maybe ... is there a chance he'd be a villain? Would destiny give him a sidekick? You ... perhaps?
An old man who rides the bike one handed with the other in a cast -- how did he break it? And how does he cope? Is it a burden to him? Does he have help? Or is he thankful despite his circumstances?
You blink a few times as you notice a long haired fellow in a blue suit in front of the bank -- he looks so out of place. Who is he? Where does he work that he would have to wear that? Does he wish he could escape the clutches of that suit? Or does he ... actually ... like ... it?
Suddenly you realise that forty-five minutes have passed, and you are nearly back home.
That boy who wore the ear buds -- will he ever know that forty-five minutes later he still lives in your mind? And that maybe he taught you something?
But do you think, as you leap out of the car and run to your door, about all the people who saw you? Do you ask if they pitied you, or stared at you, or admired you? If a casual gesture of yours spoke to them, or if perhaps you are famous somewhere unknown? Do you wonder if you were a flash of inspiration to someone else?
No, you don't. All you do is run to your desk, and flip open your laptop, and try to condense your observation skills into 750 words.
* * *
what about you?
do you ever get random bursts of inspiration from observation?
[also if any of you are interested in a really cool four week shared wip tag project that works like a link-up go over to Julian Daventry's blog! It's all going to be about your writing and I promise you'll like it!]
[also if any of you are interested in a really cool four week shared wip tag project that works like a link-up go over to Julian Daventry's blog! It's all going to be about your writing and I promise you'll like it!]
