Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Capturing a moment

P writing blueImage via Wikipedia‎"Everybody is a genius. But, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing that it is stupid." ~Albert Einstein

All she could hear was him smacking his lips and sucking his teeth and the sound grew louder and louder in her head until she was just pulsing with this horrible noise. She wondered why this habit of his didn’t seem to bother other people. Then again, there weren’t other people often around and when they were, he was just as polite as could be. She knew better. His nasty little habits were constant and at times wondered if he weren’t doing them on purpose when she was nearby. She wished she could run from this hell hole of a house but the universe kept playing dirty tricks on her and she couldn't seem to make things work right.
Her job that she loved and was good at dried up in a minutes notice when a senior partner decided to pull out of the startup company for personal reasons taking the funding with them. One day, she was planning to move back to what she had come to think of as her soul’s home, the next she was calling the movers to re-route the truck to where she had relatives. She lost her job and her means of support for herself and her child. Since she was already scheduled to move in three days, the home she was living in was rented to another family. Sure, she got a pittance of child support but it was no more than just grocery money. She had made a decision long ago to stay far away from her ex who was too dangerous to bother with so she never tried to increase support. It wasn’t like he cared or tried to be a father but that was a story for another day, not something she was going to dredge up from the hidden spaces in her brain. Today, she was going to try something new, she was going to try to write.
She had toyed with the idea so many times and her friends told her she had a knack but she wasn’t sure if having a knack was good enough. She always wondered about authors and how they came up with stories. Were they just writing and writing until something started to appear or were they envisioning a beginning, a middle and an end? Did they know the title when they started? Well, she wasn’t going to worry about that right now. She was going to write. Maybe she would look into a writing class to see if she could pick up pointers, maybe learn something new. Today she was just going to write.
Chapter one
It could have been easier to pick the piƱones with gloves on to avoid the sore fingertips but she had forgotten them in the truck ………
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1 comment:

  1. Yesssss! I think writing must be a lot like photography-you take a lot of pictures and edit til your voice comes through. H

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