Saturday, March 17, 2012

Slice of Life #17 - Playing with Fiction: Day 2

As morning came, no one roamed the streets of the tiny subdivision overlooking the lake, but someone was watching. The leaves populated the streets with dancing and leaping, they seemed not to have a care in the world, this was not so for the hidden resident of 252 Pleasant Drive(#1) You see, he took care of everyone, watched over everyone. You would think he would learn, but the desire to wander over came him and he ventured out through the garden, passed the mailboxes and down the hill. She was leaving and needed an escort. He sat with her until her bus came and then trotted home. He knew the man's eyes were on him, following him, daring him to leave the yard again. For now, he would lay low and wait. Eventually the man would have to go to work and that he did. Then Jack could mosey down to the water's edge and wait for the woman. It took her longer now, to walk from the house to the shore. So when he heard the door open he would run to greet her and walk with her to the benches, where the grass meets the sand. His days began and ended with her. At night the sun would inch down behind the horizon, the sky would turn from blue, to pink, to purple, and then to a deep, dark blue. As the colors darkened the sky, it's as if an eyelid came down to signal the closing of the day. The woman would feed the geese and pet him. He could feel energy flow to her, could sense her get stronger, see a satisfied smile come over her face as she stands to return to her haven. Jack would then continue on his way. Greeting all those who he encountered, except the man, the man with crossed arms, always with the crossed arms. He was to be avoided. There was no helping him, or was there?

(The red is the part I wrote yesterday - I'm trying to show my thinking a bit as I go. That's harder than I thought, but we'll see. It seemed to interrupt the story too much to put it right in the middle, so I'm just going to put footnoteish things at the end.)

(#1:  I was stuck here I asked myself a few questions…Who's watching? Should I use the line, "perched high like a lonely street light" No I envision an owl there. That doesn't fit the story. Why are they watching? Is the person watching antagonist or protagonist? Who's hiding? Why are they hiding? Is someone hiding? I tentatively answered a few of these questions in my head, but I'll have to see how they play out.)

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  1. This is really good. I found myself wanting to read more. I feel like the one watching is a ghost-someone from her past that she once loved, still loves. Perhaps her deceased husband, child, parent, sibling? Maybe this watcher doesn't realize they're dead. The only person that can see him, does only because, he can see ghosts. I sense he doesn't like this intruder? Not sure where you are going with this. These were my thoughts as I read your story. They may be very different from the direction you are going in. I hope you keep going with this. I can't wait to read what happens next.

  2. It is hard to reflect on your process but oh so worthwhile, don't you think? Your piece is freaking me out. Good thing the sun is coming out now :)

  3. Is Jack a dog?? I love this! And I love that you are taking us on a journey with you through your thoughts as you write it. I'll be coming back for more!

  4. ". . . it's as if an eyelid came down to signal the closing of the day" what a beautiful way to say it!
    I need to know more about the man with the crossed arms, why are they crossed? Keep going you've got me hooked.

  5. I want to know why he takes care of everyone, especially the woman, and who is the watcher really intrigues me. This is an interesting line: "The woman would feed the geese and pet him." Sounds like some kind of caring, but I don't know why. Very fun to read & see what questions my mind is forming. Clearly you have a mystery here-write on!

  6. I was surprised to find that Jack was a dog. Your story went into a place I didn't expect it to from yesterday - I can't believe how much it built up since yesterday and the plot is unfolding. Very intriguing. I want to know more about this man. Why is he so unhappy and what is his connection to the woman?

  7. I liked how you used color coding and your footnote to capture your thinking in the process. While reading it seemed like you are enjoying the process of exploring fiction. What a fun way to slice!

  8. I took the someone watching to be the man with the crossed arms.
    A note about the leaves dancing. This means it is fall, is that the season you want? And the leaves sound happy. I often think when a story is placed in the fall it symbolizes death or decay. I think of fall leaves as crunchy. If they are dancing is it a windy day? If the older lady unsteady walking in the wind?
    Oh, now I think it is the dog watching. He is taking care of the older lady.
    I am curious what the conflict is in the story,and how it will get resolved. Who owns the dog? Why is the man with the crossed arms so mad. And what is the power the dog gives the woman?
    I will come back :)