Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Slice of Life #20 - Playing with Fiction Day 5

Added some more plot today. Really trying to move the story forward. I do have an idea for a climax, but trying to figure out how to get there. I don't think I'm doing as much weaving of the different story lines, like my husband suggested, but they're moving forward.

Just a reminder that each color represents what I wrote on different days, so the black at the bottom is new - just fyi. :)

    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. 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?
     Jack has always been a loyal dog, like dogs are, but he's had many masters through time. He's spent his days shepherding and retrieving, honing his skill for care taking. For now his home is 252 Pleasant Drive and the family that resides there thinks he's just theirs. They know Jack's penchant for roaming the neighborhood, but don't fully realize his entire responsibilities.

     Charlotte's busy in the kitchen as she walks past the window, the for sale sign grates on her mind. She considers making toast and marmalade, but as the room begins to be fill with an orange glow, she decides to join Jack down by the lake to watch the sunset. Stepping outside, the quiet of the evening is almost disturbing. She remembers how the sound of children playing use to fill the air. Jack is there as expected, like clockwork. She hears his feet squish in the riparian path, as they get closer to the lake. Jack and the setting sun always make her feel warm and content.

     Today Jack continues with his usual routine. First, the bus stop to make sure the girl gets off to school safely, then he visits the woman, Charlotte, who feeds the geese down by the lake and then home. He intentionally passes the man's house, but he can't -- the man is standing on the sidewalk out front, barring his way with a broomstick. He glares menacingly, while the chattering of the squirrels agitates his nerves, escalating his rage towards the wayward offending dog, intruding on his domain. Jack chuffs annoyingly at the man, who like a tiger chuffs back in his own belligerent way. Jack narrowly escapes while the man goes off to call animal control.

    

    

                             
Click here to returen to Two Writing Teachers and other slices!

4 comments:

  1. Animal control! AH! Just read yesterday's post as well. You taught me a new word. I will admit, I didn't know the word "riparian"

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  2. I love how you are making your writing process so visible. The color idea is a great one, and it has me thinking about the brainstorming of ideas and the later revision that goes on with our writing. I know my students see me writing, and hear me talking about my writing, because I was to dispel the myth that people just sit down and ... bam ... out pops a poem or a novel.
    Thanks for sharing
    Kevin

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  3. I'm really enjoying watching you work and think your way through this piece! Thanks for being so open with it. :)

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  4. It's interesting to see you struggle with the direction. You have advice from your husband telling you one thing to do and your mind another. I can't wait for the resolution (I have an idea in my mind, we'll see if it matches yours)

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