Today I got to do some writing while enjoying the company of some dogs that came to the park to play.

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I said good afternoon to the man, who said “Tax season is coming up, eh?”

Is…is that a normal response to “good afternoon?” Or have I been so reclusive I’ve forgotten how to interact with people? Do…Do I start talking about taxes with everyone I meet? Should I give people a copy of TurboTax?

Anyway, on to today’s experiment:

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-Saw a young woman pounding her way across the dirt road towards him. Her shaggy brown hair was plastered to her face but he could see her blood-shot eyes glaring at him, like the flashing eyes of a cat hiding beneath a dark porch.

What the hell was this girl doing?

“Stand back ma’am!” Josh said, standing up straight. Unfortunately his boot was still tangled up in the horse shoe, which went sliding across the ash. He stood on one leg for a moment, his arms flailing like a drunken windmill. Then he planted himself face first in the dirt, within kissing distance of the girl’s bare feet. Well, not entirely bare, half a shoe sole was tied to each foot by strips of light blue fabric.

“What a sorry state of affairs that we lost to Yankees like you!” She spat, using her big toe to flick a pebble into his face.

The girl went into the blacksmith’s shop, ducking beneath the partially collapsed roof and disappearing into the mess of shattered wooden planks and smoldering ash.

“You can’t be in there!” He said, scrambling to his feet.

“The Hell I can’t!” The girl yelled back.

A crowd of people burst out laughing, which had gathered to watch the spectacle!

 

Analysis: 

Okay the guy might be a dick, and an incompetent dick at that, but this girl is pretty awesome. My left hand is apparently a fan of Gone with the Wind, because it’s channeling Scarlette O’Hara, which is weird since it’s been like 5+ years since I’ve read the book or seen the movie. Anyway I like her attitude, she doesn’t take shit from anyone.

I still have no idea where this is going, which is a strange sensation really. Usually I have a rough idea of the story and while I’m getting the impression this is going to be a romance, because obviously, I don’t know when or why or how. This is a really freeing exercise, not having to worry about if it’s any good or if the story is going anywhere.

It might suck in the end, but I like where it’s going so far.

Hopefully my left hand finds out what this girl’s name is tomorrow.

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Written by John Stevenson

I'm a freelance writer based out of Seattle, Washington.

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