Saturday, 17 December 2011

That Place

It's a weird old world that you can walk past something a thousand times (more than, I suppose, if I were to calculate) and then one day you look at it with fresh eyes, despite battling hailstones and you think, man what used to be in there, what's that for and I could do something with that.

I love those moments.

Now it'll never be a dirty, grey building that seems to go on forever ever again, it'll either be the story I wrote, the story I considered writing, and probably the I know what the freak lives behind those black windows and I should run.

Almost Christmas folks. Eat, drink, be merry. I hope 2012 is a beautiful year. Or just a fun one. God, I need some fun.


Deborah Walker said...

Merry Christmas, Cate.

I'm still hoping to slip out another story between now and then. But motivation is fading. Must . . . keep writing . . . resist temptation to shop.

Jeff Coffield said...

Good morning.

Posts like this one make me think in order to write, and that's something I need to do more.

The rural roads outside the cookie cutter community of homes where I live are filled images.

Merry Christmas and have a Happy and fun New Year.


Cate Gardner said...

I'm sure you can write another three stories, Deborah

Ooh, cookie cutter homes - I like that, Jeff

Katey said...

Yay, Merry Christmas!

I live for those moments. It's like someone else just peeks out through your eyes and BAM.

Funny how we like being smacked like that :D