I asked for it and I got it.
Last week I posted a photo and asked you to tell me the story behind the image. You were creative and sent in some very perceptive scenarios. I enjoyed the imagination, attention to detail and verbal interpretations.
As a creative writing experiment, this was great. But what's more interesting to me is the in-depth personal observations each of the entrants created. A perfect example of how to look at and appreciate a fine art photograph.
Here's the photo and some of your short stories.
1. She had seen the truck parked in the same spot, off and on, for the past three weeks. The man sitting in the front seat seemed to be staring at her.
2. (It was a dark and stormy night) but typical of the rainy mess we’ve suffered on previous Happy Harvest celebrations. The blue Chevy coasted to a stop outside the auditorium door. I froze in my very realistic oak tree costume cursing my brother for taking so long to get into his overalls.
3. It was a dark and stormy night down in the old Gaslight Square. A suspicious blue pick-up truck circled the block a few times, then pulled over and parked. Only the occasional glow from his cigarette broke through the darkness inside his truck. A scantily-clad lady of the evening approached the driver on the passenger side. “Hey, Daddy. Feel like goin’ for a spin?” She climbed in. He started the truck, threw his cigarette out the window, and they disappeared into the dark night.
4. We went to bed early that night, leaving a window open to catch the unseasonally cool breezes of a late August summer in the Midwest. Before long, I was stirred awake by the sound of heavy raindrops beating a steady rhythm on the roof above. I stumbled out of bed but stopped short when I noticed a reflection from the streetlight of a wet footprint on the oak floor below the windowsill. We were not alone in the room.
5. If I ever wear these infrared glasses again I’m going to apply some Rain X on them. And what is it with them making me wear this Men in Black uniform; I never did understand that. Damn I just realized I’m on the wrong block, the truck should be in the back!
6. The truck had been there since just after dusk. Jen had said that she wasn’t feeling well, and that she was going to bed early, and that she would talk to him in the morning. What really hurt, what really stuck in his craw, was that he really didn’t even love her. Then why the f*** was he here, at three o’clock in the morning, watching her place, wondering if the guy in the truck was going to spend the whole night there, and how many times they would f***. No, he didn’t love her. But he was damned if he was going to let her end this on her terms, end it with a welder from Torrance, who drove a shitty pickup and brought her take out Chinese so he could slip between her sheets.
7. He stood in the shadows shivering. Not from the cold rain but rather from what was parked across the street of his home. Wasn’t that the same truck he saw near the grocery store yesterday and then two days earlier in the office parking lot? Charles began to question the secrecy of the Witness Protection Program or was it those seemingly harmless tags on Facebook. His gut told him to run.
THANK YOU to all who entered. We'll do this again sometime.
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