This morning I woke with an idea. These ideas normally fall into a few buckets:
How much longer could I sleep before starting the day?
What will I eat for lunch?
Do I have to go to work?
But this morning, the first to be double-digit warm since last year, I had a different idea. What if I wrote story starters based on people I observe during my commute. Maybe there’s one good line or maybe it’ll all be slop. Each day I see more than 100 people. Many tired, others deep in thought, some anxious, others worried, some working feverishly. I have 30 minutes each way to observe and create. My attention span is often short, so these will likely remain in this form instead of becoming award-winning novellas. Then I’ll pine over what might have been.
Feel free to add a paragraph in the comments to build this into a more comprehensive tale.
The knit eyes on her canary yellow hat, fashioned to look like a minion, pointed to the ceiling. Meanwhile she struggled to keep her eyes open. Every few minutes her eyelids crept apart like a growing crack in ice. She looked out the tinted blue window that doubled as an emergency exit for a brief moment, then shut her eyes again.
The weekend had been hectic for her. They all were ever since she moved from Tallahassee.