Whenever I’m at a loss for topics to write about, I simply look out my window. Even our quiet, rather conventional mixed-neighborhood street holds drama for the careful observer. Birds and squirrels, autumn leaves littering the pavement, cars lined up all along the curbs, a hooded dog walker pulled along by an enthusiastic puppy, a changing sky.
The most intriguing stories, though, are hidden from view. Behind closed doors and pulled shades of these modest homes rage the stormy lives of immodest souls battling their demons. But they require a writer’s creative imagination to find their way into stories to be read.
[Daily post 095 of 260 in my year-long challenge.] ♨