Hey, writer-type folks. Every Friday we do a fun free-write.
You can write whatever you want in the comments section on this blog post. You have two minutes (give or take a few seconds ... no pressure!). Have fun. The more people who play, the more fun it is. So, tell a friend. Then send 'em here to read your 'two' and encourage them to play.
Along the road, bright lights flash on and off, the sensation is much like being in a bad rave. It is disorienting, and it doesn't match the soundtrack in his mind. He has cast back, past college, past high school, he has gone to the small, thatched place in his mind. He thinks about it and he looks at the kid who lives there and tries to find some commonality.
The kid worries too much, but he just wants everyone to be happy. Tension has a smell he recognizes. A sweat, fear smell. He doesn't know how much more he can take. The anxiety is overwhelming even though he doesn't have the words for it.
His mind sticks on one night, long past. After practice. Dark. The police stopped him after a mile or so. He explained that no one picked him up. The cops were empathetic and took him home. No one mentioned that he had to walk home most of the time. No one mentioned much of anything.
He shakes it off and keeps walking. No one will pick him up this time.
Thanks for stopping by! It's independence day here in the states, so I apologize if it takes me a while to respond to each piece. I will. Have a lovely weekend.