Open Writing

This is something I ran across on my hard drive the other day. I'd forgotten it completely. Again.

At the time I wrote these, I was active in Scribblers, a local writers group. We had a lot of fun, but it dwindled, as such groups do. Finally there were only three of us regulars, and two of us really shouldn't have been driving at night or in bad weather. Time wounds all heels. Or something like that.

Anyway, I thought perhaps you would enjoy these little bits and pieces. The idea is to make a list of simple subjects, write each on a slip of paper, pull a subject line out of a hat and write for five or perhaps ten minutes by the clock.

Read your story to the group.

Little Stories

When you are just writing for the fun of it, your stories don't have to have much structure, plot, or even a point. I'm feeling lazy today, and I have some non-writing chores to do. I was looking for something to bring to Scribbler's meeting, and ran across these. I think I must have been using a list from the book, Fast Fiction, as a mind-stretcher when I wrote them. But it's been a long time, so I'm not sure. Try it. You might enjoy it. Good to spring on a bunch of bored grandkids, too.

Something stolen

It wasn't lost or mislaid. No question about that. It was stolen. Someone is a thief. Why? What good would it be to anyone else? Nobody can use it. Not even as scrap. Maybe they could melt it down and recast it, although that wouldn't do them any good. If you do that the original is lost; and the materials it's made from are cheap and available.
I just don't understand.

Is it spite? Or is someone so stupid they think no one will recognize it and they can pass it off as their own?

Who took my story?

Story about an animal

I could write about almost any kind of animal, real or imagined. How about the stray donkey that wandered through our neighborhood? Burro, I guess it was. I'm not a donkey expert. Thought maybe it was a deer, when I first glimpsed it as it passed my window.

But not so. It was too big, and too tame. Pretty skinny, though. Probably hadn't been eating too well. Animals don't do any better than humans at living off the land, unless someone has taught them the tricks.

Looked like it might have been brushed by a car, or banged up a little in some way. I tried to get it to come to me, the second time I saw it. It was munching my Leatherleaf Viburnum shrubs, which didn't bother me at all because they were overdue for pruning.

What a labor saver that critter could be, I thought. I need something to trim my shrubs and mow my grass. For the price of a little water, some grain once in a while, and a bale of straw in the barn it would take over a lot of my chores.

Story about leaving

Leaving. Going away for good. Heading down that lonesome road. I used to be good at that, once upon a time. I would just tuck my spare cash away someplace, not too obvious but secure, and head out. Ride my bike, hitchhike, take a Greyhound or maybe a train.

Sometimes I'd just start out walking. Usually had all the clothes I owned on my back. Head down the road. See what was around the bend, or over the next hill.

Never had any serious trouble or even missed many meals. Had to sleep in the open a time or two, but never in the pouring rain or blowing snow.

Wouldn't mind doing it again sometime, but I wouldn't get far now. Hard to make up a believable cover story for an old graybeard like me. If they didn't figure out who I was, likely the cops would have me in jail on suspicion of being a free man, and that wouldn't do at all.

© Jerry Selby