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| Yeah, it’s a horse, but why is it in my front yard? |
There is a road I drive down every day to get to work. It is not a popular part of the highway system, so there are few businesses along the way. One site has changed renters numerous times. It has been a restaurant half a dozen times, a used clothing store, seamstress business and is currently a donut shop.
Usually, at about a year and a half, the business just closes up and goes up for rent again. The donut shop hit its one year mark back in May. So I expect soon to see cars in the parking lot one day and the next the day find it as empty as an old shoe box, tissue crumpled and little packets of granular stuff maintaining a dry but useless environment.
That is a story just waiting for the telling. Why does that store never hold a business long even though they seem to be thriving? Who owns it? Are they nothing but trouble to their renters? Is the highway itself unwilling to take so much traffic for too long and has its own agenda to push through despite human desires to succeed?
There are stories everywhere waiting to be told.
- Why is that little girl sitting in bored meditation on her porch stairs, chin balanced on her hands?
- Why did that family throw out a perfectly good couch? It hasn’t any tears, slumping of cushions, or broken frame and is still in style.
- Why is that fellow standing behind the tree talking on his phone and swatting at the bugs clearly annoying him?
- Why is that horse wearing a blue cover over its face when the horse beside it isn’t?
You don’t have to beat bushes to find stories. Write about the bush.
Where did you find your last story or did it find you?
