“If she thinks she’s going to have her old life back, she can forget it.”
I overheard this statement on yesterday as I was walking through the hospital. A lady was sitting in one of the waiting areas talking on her cell phone. “I don’t have long to talk,” she said through her tears. “It’s bad. Really bad.”
As I continued on to my appointment I had so many questions buzzing around in my head. Who was the woman talking to? Who was hurt? What happened? And the list goes on. By the time I’d reached the sign in desk at my doctor’s office I’d come up with a scenario. Perhaps the woman’s daughter, who was an Olympic ice skater or business tycoon, had been in a serious car accident. Maybe the daughter would be paralyzed. Or maybe it was a heart attack. Maybe in the daughter’s quest to make to the top of the corporate ladder, she’d neglected her health and is now suffering a heart attack. Or maybe it wasn’t the woman’s daughter. Maybe it was her best friend and maybe the friend was shot by her husband’s mistress. Geez!! What an imagination?
For me, taking small snippets of information and building around them is the way I flex my writing muscle. We often think that writing involves a pen, computer and or paper. Not necessarily. Writing begins in your head as you live your life. So, start living. Start writing.
It’s the first day of school. A group of people are at a bus stop less than a block from their home. Parents and grandparents are anxiously awaiting the arrival of Lilly, their four year old daughter/granddaughter. This was the first day she’d been to school and the first day that she’d ridden a school bus. The parents and grandparents cheer when they see the bus turn the corner. When the bus comes to the stop several excited kids dressed in blue pants and white shirts exit the bus but not Lilly.