improvarama

You don't have to look into my eyes, but it works better if you do. Of course, those eyes can be alarming. Like a character actor (which I sometimes am) sometimes one eye will look right at you and the other, not quite. None of us are symmetrical, but as Groucho would say to me, you're abusing the privilege. Or am I? "You keep telling the same story." "What story is that?" "The one that sounds like a Coen brothers movie." "Which one?" "All of them." "Starring Steve Buscemi?" "All of those." "Dude." "That one, too." "Now I've lost the story." "Dude, you ARE the story." I was thinking about another story. It was about the possibility of cousins. It was about the possibility of an unknown grandparent. It was a story about how an all-consuming love consumes all, and then like a zombie just won't completely die but just goes on consuming. That's not fun. "Pe...

The course title looked so interesting that she could not resist. Renewable History. What if she COULD go back in time? What would she change? What would she fix? Would she go right for the really big stuff (President Kennedy don't go to Dallas!) or simply fix the relationships she'd messed up. And, oh, she'd messed up a few. Maybe it was her attention span. She'd stay interested. She get passionate. She'd be all about the all over of everything connected with her partner and then...and then her partner would do something so annoying she just couldn't believe it. A misplaced fart. A dirty toothbrush. A wet toilet seat. A scratch on the car.  That was the picture. She could never picture herself staying with anyone forever, even though she always said that she would. Isn't that what they wanted to hear? Like that dinner at that Mexican restaurant in Louisville. She liked it really spicy. Her partner was a spice wimp. He couldn't take the tears....

He wouldn't never be caught stalking. It wasn't his style. He respected his friends and he respected her the most (until she couldn't be trusted.) She'd call the police. She'd call her security guard of a new boyfriend. She'd call his bluff. He couldn't get caught. But he'd see her anyway. In the shadows. Walking along a street they once walked together. Staring at her phone as if messages from the universe were working their way to her brain. Whatever was left of it... He couldn't see her anymore. Maybe he imagined that light, that beam, that moment. But he could have sworn that was her dog. -- doug smith ------------------------- Picture This: 1. Find a random image (truly, close your eyes!) 2. Write for two minutes, inspired by that image. --------------------------