Sunday Scribblings Prompt: ‘Hi. My name is…’
This is what I know about Alice ~ a fictional character currently visiting me.
…
Stifling air, a lumpy mattress and leg cramps stole the comfort of beautiful dreams. Alice tossed and turned.
The old woman she’d seen yesterday in the dumpster behind the restaurant preyed on her mind. Alice was certain there was little difference in finances between them. This was the nightmare that kept her awake on most nights. How long would she be able to sling hash and collect bucks enough to keep herself afloat in a minimal fashion? How far was she from a highjacked Safeway shopping cart and a big Tide box?
She watched it happen day after day. Diners and drinkers at the Drift Inn were all edgehangers. Oh, they pretended not to be but when the last call lights came on, none hurried to leave. They never quit looking, never quit hoping.
Take that crazy Joe. 'Geronimo' he called himself. He kept his eye on Alice and she wondered how desperate he’d have to be to lust after a waitress with varicose veins and a lazy eye?
Fractal created in Fractal Explorer.
Fractals Photos Poetry Prose Watercolor
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Sunday Scribblings #78
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10 comments:
I want to know more! The "Drift Inn" sounds like a very interesting place.
Write away....
I also want to read more, this was very well done.
Very nice beginning to a good story.
I enjoyed your post, I'd like to hear more about Alice.
Your fractal is very intriguing
Seems like a well crafted story.
Please Continue....
I, too, am visited by characters and I need to do more to bring them alive. If Alice is kind and good with her customers, it probably makes a lot of sense that Crazy Joe gives her so much attention, wanted or unwanted.
You asked me about my poetry. The short answer is that I am very slow getting poems written. They come to me in a burst, but the bursts are few and far between.
The poem "Free" is my second Billy poem and I'd like to write more about Billy's experiences with working class adults in his life in a place I can only think of Kellogg, Idaho. In the other Billy poem he takes newspapers to a recycle center where the guy working there has lost his life as a logger to sales shut down by the courts. I think the poem is more eloquent than my summary of it. I sure hope so!
Thanks for coming over to kelloggbloggin' and for making such thoughtful comments.
I love those tomato seeds at the end of your poem at the top of this page.
I want to read more about her. I'm always drawn to characters trying to hold it together, financially and/or emotionally, when the odds seem so stacked against their survival.
I wonder if Alice would like to come over to my place and share some conversation on the front porch over a freshly ground cup o' joe?
So many things I'd like to ask Alice...
:-)
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