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I heard the rain
whispering your name in a song with each drop on rusted tin roofs I remember your feet dancing taps across a smooth floor to jazzy horns stirring the storm I felt my heart crack like thunder when your eyes struck without warning All went calm
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Be indecisive,
Sit back and contemplate life, Stuck at home anyway. Wander off the path,
Explore the regions beyond, Find yourself within. Fall in love with you,
Be guaranteed someone cares, Embrace who you are. On the surface,
I'm tranquil Like calm seas, A whisper of wind Along my shores Beneath the surface, I'm raging Like a hurricane, Gale after gale Churns my storm. My writing goal is to be steady,
one letter, one word, one sentence, one paragraph, one page, one chapter, one story, at a time. I steadily fail. I never quit. Lotan Brown, aka Ian Gough, on Twitter offers up the #7daytale. The writing challenge is to write a story using 7 tweets, one per day, for a week. I decided to give it a go. I'm a pantser. I didn't outline the story or write ahead. What you'll read is what came to mind each day that I sat down to add to the story. I have not edited the story. Each day below is a direct copy from my daily tweets. I titled the story at the end. Writer or not, give it a try.
Not What It Seems By Robert Stanhope Day 1 From a safe distance, I observed something I never thought I'd see. It happened quickly. A young blonde girl riding a bike down the street. A gray van pulled along side her. A side door opened. Two men hurried out, grabbed the girl and the bike, and pulled them inside. Day 2 The van raced away and I followed. After turning onto Main Street, the van slowed to the speed limit. I kept my distance a few car lengths back. After a right onto Elm, the van stopped in front of a warehouse. Three men in black, and the girl, got out. I called 9-1-1. Day 3 The police dispatcher heard my report & kept me on the line. The police were en route. "They are coming out!" I shouted as four people, dressed as clowns, exited the warehouse & climbed into the van. "I know the small one is the girl." "Okay, sir. We'll be there soon." Day 4 A fifth clown rolled bicycles to the van. They drove off. I was conflicted. Follow the van? Wait for the police? I followed. "The van is moving & I'm following them," I told the dispatcher. A stern, calm voice replied, "Step down, sir. We'll track them down." "Sorry." Day 5 "Sir? Sir!" The dispatcher called out. I ended the call. I thumbed through my apps. I wanted to go live on Facebook. I placed the phone in its holder and started streaming. Why are they pulling into the elementary school parking lot? Another van pulled alongside them. Day 6 A police van? How did the police know where they were going? A half dozen officers got out of their van & walked around the gray van. No guns drawn. No urgency in motion. They slid open the door on the gray van. The clowns exited and hugged the officers. I was shocked. Day 7 An officer walked in my direction. He was carrying what looked like a suitcase, but larger. He stopped at the street corner, opened the case and stood it up. A sign. "POLICE DEPARTMENT CIRCUS - TONIGHT - 6:00 PM" A circus! I turned down a side street and drove away. Young is never old
The mind remains bold Keep it warm not cold Good clean fun
A peck on the cheek From and to my hon, Eye open for a peek, Happy we are one. Cast no stone
But in the water, See the ripples Across the surface, This is life. |
Robert Stanhope
Writer and photographer. Archives
November 2020
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