Stream of Consciousness exercise
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Trying the Stream of Consciousness exercise from Creative Writer’s Notebook. I am clearly no James Joyce, but I don’t hate the way this one turned out.
Sat here with my favorite mug in hand on my wee patio in the mid-morning sun watching the dog break apart a stick blown out of a tree by a spring storm. The trees that will have to come down, to my disappointment. I planned the shade garden around those trees. Now, the shad will be cut down.
Still, better that than falling on the house. The one outside Kip’s window is particularly worrisome. But the expense, and at the start of another economic depression. At least we haven’t lost any income. So many, so many have. Too many for us to help. Too many for any of us to help.
How do you choose where to give when you are so worried about the future? How do you decide who is worthy? Or do you? Can you choose whose poverty is greater?
And what about the poverty of spirit, of intellect, of courage? Those are just as dangerous if not more. I see people, adults behaving like the worst sort of school yard bullies. Shouting, spitting, waving their hands around.
-(Text from upstairs) Mom, have you seen my agenda?
-It’s beside your bed.
Where are the adults when even the supposed grown ups behave in ways that you would punish your children for? And how long will we be stuck at home when people keep defying common sense or putting profits over people.
-(Husband approaches from the garage.)Okay, is the grocery list up to date? I can go now.
-Should be. Oh, get whatever meat you can find. There may be a shortage soon, and we can freeze it.
-Okay. (checks grocery list) The order for the part to fix the weed whacker got cancelled. The company isn’t shipping anything right now.
-Damn. (Looks at weeds growing taller by the hour after all this rain.)
-Yeah. I’ll figure something out. (Shrugs because he has no idea what that something will be.)
-Okay.
-Have the boy clean up around the trash bins.
-Yep. Don’t forget to wear a mask.
-(Pats pocket) I’ll be back. Love you.
-Love you too.
He goes back into the garage to leave for the store. He’s going early to avoid the crowd. He’s going rather than me because his life insurance is worth more, because he thinks I could handle single parenthood better than he could.
I’m not so sure.
