Imagination Hour: An Aborted Scene

17 Apr

The following is the beginning of a scene I started on a few weeks ago for a creative writing study I’m taking at the moment. Some nice weather and a little Google searching gave me a flash of inspiration for a place to put the two characters I’ve been developing for the class. I ended up liking the setup so much that I couldn’t bear the thought of ruining it by trying to take it somewhere. I still have no idea where I would (or should) really go with this, honestly, though I may revisit it at some point. Any suggestions, writing comrades?

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As they walked along the boulevard in the late afternoon Jack found himself preoccupied by the gulls swooping back and forth overhead. With their wings stiff and outstretched they looked something like small hang gliders, remote-controlled objects manipulated by an unseen hand for the purpose of accentuating the scenery. In fleeting moments it was hard, and then easy, and then again quite difficult to believe, to personally accept, that each was an autonomous being capable of thought, pain, pleasure and mortality. Hands planted tenuously in the pockets of his slightly baggy jeans, he surveyed the gulls and the clouds and the bright blue sky as he wandered over the walkway, in his mind attempting to pick apart their manifold mysteries one at a time.

Lydia, however, was looking forward, gazing at the people trickling past. Old men, young girls, everything in between – it was spring now, the wind having left behind the cutting daggers of its wintry ways and adopting instead the texture and consistency of warm breath rolling across pedestrians’ faces, and as such it was only to be expected that many pedestrians would take to the streets to appreciate the sensuous favor. Her heels clicked as she stepped on the wooden boards and her green dress rustled in the breeze as she sailed forward.

To the glance of the casual observer they may have appeared to be walking side-by-side, but in fact Lydia was the leader of the two, Jack falling slightly behind and every so often looking down from the skies to double-check the path and the directional cues laid out by his sister, so as to be sure he was still on the proper path.

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