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Write A Story With Santa
Occassional Guest Pirate and one of the coolest ladies I know, Santa O'Byrne returns to the ship to bring us a little group participation.
There’s a house I pass on the way to the bank. It’s a square red brick house set back from the road a bit. It’s façade as non-sequential as its shape. Mirror image windows set on either side of a plain black door while above it a porch door opens onto nothingness.
Every day, like clockwork, a woman walks the perimeter of the yard to the left side of the house. Dressed in grey sweats that inexplicably blend into the background, she sets her pace along imaginary lines, her face hidden beneath the bill of a baseball cap pulled low over her eyes.
Then she disappears as quickly as she appears. Is it because the weather turns warmer, negating the need for such heavy armor? No sooner has my writer’s mind set about continuing the story she’s started in my head, the building begins. Truckloads of wood planks follow the delivery of tall metal posts set ten feet apart along the same perimeter she walked. Do the tread marks from her sneakers create a plum line for the builder?
More questions spring to mind. Deeper mysteries yet to unfold.
The planks went up next, taller than any man, rivaling the height of the house next to it. Curtains in the windows lifted on the left side seeming to chance a sidelong glance at what was being done right in its own backyard.
Does your writer’s mind work this way? Do you see the world around you unfold like a story waiting to be told? Why don’t you tell me how this story unfolds for you and I’ll tell you how it continues to unfold for me.
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19 comments:
I am constantly people watching and making up stories for everything going on around me. If I see someone in the mall doing something that catches my eye, particularly if that something seems out of the ordinary, my mind goes into overdrive.
:) I think it's pretty standard for us writerly sorts. Either it's a lot of imagination or some serious nosiness.
Far too tough a task for Monday morning, LOL. First I wondered if she was looking for mole holes. Now I know she dances naked all day long and doesn't want the neighbors to see.
I'm the same way. I drive through an old historic neighborhood to go to work, and one day I saw a woman struggling to push a wheel barrow up the front steps of her home, across the porch, in through the front door. Naturally, I assumed she'd murdered her husband and was headed back for the body :)
Terri - interesting story. Very bizarre behavior! Let's see....perhaps she was counting paces to see where her property line began or ended. Or perhaps there is an ongoing quarrel with a neighbor, and she's doing a perimeter sweep to ensure he hasn't damaged anything. The huge fence going in is to protect her home/yard from said neighbor.
Maggie - It's obviously never too early for you. LOL! Looking for mole holes. That makes perfect sense. Or we could go with the "killed her husband" thing again and say she's making sure the newly dug up spot looks like the rest of the yard.
Marn - This is why I worry about my writerly-ness. I don't typically do this. But then my brain seems to be on eternal distraction.
Hal - Can't take credit for this one. Though like an idiot, I forgot to write Santa in intro. I've fixed it now. :) I think you're right, that woman was definitely moving body parts.
I do this sometimes, but my stories turn out so Lifetime Channel for the poor people. "And then a dingo ate my baby!" and it gets absolutely out of control....
Maybe she's FBI and she's checking perimeter lines around the house. The house is a safe house, and they have a Senator's daughter stashed inside. She's been an eyewitness to a murder. The woman is the FBI's best. She has the most kills on record for a female FBI agent. The baseball cap pulled low over her eyes hides the fact that she's scanning the area like a pro, looking for any signs of infiltration. Her grey sweats guarantee any one passing on the street will just see her as someone who's out in the yard filling mole holes.
Are you kidding? I make up stories for everyone. I work downtown and I have a window. I see people on the street all day long. Last week there was a man and woman sitting on the parking lot retainer wall. They were turned in towards each other but not touching. The woman was speaking, and by her body language you could tell with each second that ticked by she was getting more aggravated. Then she brought her knees up to her chest and laid her head on her knees. She stared at the man and I watched him speak to her. I could tell it was heartfelt and spoken softly. He hestated before touching her, his hand went to her back. They stared at each other for a long minute before he leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead and walked away. Friends, but he wanted more and she couldn't do it. She was aggravated with herself, aggravated with him. And he was just kinda resigned. It was really sad to watch. I'm sure it's not as dramatic as I see in my head, but still.
sorry about that - Santa, great topic! *g*
Geez, Sin, even your comments break my heart. *sniff*
What a fun idea, San!
The woman in the gray sweats is a fomer supermodel who turned her back on the glitz to follow Thoreau's advice to "Simplify! Simplify! Simplify!" But then she discovered that her first love, whom she left standing at the altar ten years ago, lives next door with his three kids, all of them grieving over the wife and mother who died in a workplace shooting two years ago. The woman in the sweats can't bear to look at the former lover and his happiness with his kids and his grief over another woman, so she is "walling" them out. Her action, of course, will prove to be an empty gesture. One of the kids--eight-year-old Jeremy--will climb the fence, fall on her side, and break an arm. All are on their way to the conventional HEA. :)
I have always made up stories about scenes I see. When I was an undergrad, a favorite walk of my closest circle of friends led us through an old cemetery. The largest, most attention-getting monument, a huge marble obilisk with one word "Lizzie" carved on it, stood in splendid isolation, the only grave in a double plot. We had an on-going competition making up stories about that grave and about a haunted house nearby. Sometimes we linked the two. All these years later, I still speculate about them in idle moments.
I always envy writers that seem to be able to pick up stories on the street... I am one of the oblivious. I once drove through an intersection where a shoot out was occuring between a Highway Patrolman and a suspect... la, la, la, la....
My stories come from dreaming. I'm a lucid dreamer and find them winding through my brain in the morning as I wake up.
There they linger and pester during the day until I open the keyboard and start writing. They rarely have connection to my everyday life. Straight from slumberland.
Reg. post...she has salt in her pocket and is using it to protect the house... A witch's trick.
Janga - Another of my sisters in angst. But that kind of sucks that the little boy has to break an arm to set things in motion. :)
2nd - My sister in oblivion. LOL! I can't tell you how many times I riding along with someone and they say, "Did you see that?!" I usually have no clue what they are talking about. *sigh* But I love the witch part.
My brain can't handle too much thinking on a Monday...it still wants to pretend it's the weekend. LOL.
Ely - Wait, what day is it? LOL!! I feel your pain. :)
Great stories, friends. I am glad to see I'm not the only one who goes through life wondering what people are up to. Back when I was commuting and stuck in traffic, I'd glance over to the apartments lining the expressway. It always amazed me that people would go about their daily lives, lights ablaze and windows wide open. There are just some things that should be left to the imagination - know what I mean?
"There are just some things that should be left to the imagination - know what I mean?"
Suddenly, I'm glad I'm oblivious...
I feel left out! I'm such a people-watcher but I never make up stories for them. I'll only speculate with my friends if someone makes a comment.
Oddly enough, the description of the house paired with the mention of a bank took me back to college where a guy rammed into the back of a girl's truck, took off down the street, started screaming at a poor older woman coming out of the bank, and then proceeded to yell all the way into a subdivision where it took 5 police officers to take him down. Very dramatic!
It does amaze me how often people leave their windows open... I admit it, I'm always hoping for a glimpse of the their home decor just to see what their taste is. I don't want to see anything else going on!!!
Y'all are too funny. I wish you guys could hear the voicemail Santa left me last week. With her cool NY accent. It cracked me up.
Steph - I never see anything exciting like that. Though I'm just happy the dude didn't get close enough to take you hostage. And I'm just like you, I love to see how other people have decorated their homes. No idea why as I know nothing about decorating. I just find it interesting.
Santa, I'm sorry I missed the party. Fun blog!
I make up stories too. I usually watch couples interact and wonder what they're talking about. When I happen to mention it to the DH he usually wants to play along. And while I always assume something sweet and romantic his bent is a little more risque! LOL
Kudos to Janga and Sin, though!!! I didn't get nearly that detailed but was leaning toward a buried body. I'm not even sure why. I'm not usually so gruesome.
Stupid computer! I posted and my computer ate it!
Sigh. I passed by the shadow lady's house again today. There's a new addition to that home. It's even bigger than the fencing around it. It seems angry on a regular basis venting its spleen and spewing venom like so much chipped red stained timber. Or was it?
And Steph, I also get the urge to glance inside houses to see how they've set up everything. I'd love to see their kitchen. It looks like they're renovating it. In fact, they were just delivering a freezer from Sears last week. They must be on some sort of mail order meat program. The freezer looked big enough to store a half a side of beef.
Or the odd human....
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