I recently picked up the book, The 3A.M. Epiphany. I'm really enjoying it, even though I've only done one excercise out of it. The exercise was set up as this: Write a first-person narrative in which you use only two first-person pronouns, but keep the 'I' somehow important to the story you're telling.
I suppose this was the best I could come up with. It's not really a story, more a casual observation. Oh, and it was supposed to be 600 words long, but I fell short by 95. Oh well, close enough, eh? ^_^ Enjoy.
The trees are now shedding their leaves. Gold ones, red and brown ones, even a few mottled green and yellow fall from lofty boughs to the ground. They are beautiful in their decent to earth. I always think of lazy butterflies when watching them. This change of seasons has been good, if not slightly abnormal. The temperature is very warm for pre-winter. For days now, at the hottest point in the day it’s risen slightly above seventy-five degrees.
The lady next door, in the light blue painted house, remarked on the day’s heat. She stood there, earlier today, leaning up against her navy blue VW Beatle, gabbing on about last year’s winter. By this time, it should be barely over sixty outside. Though the climate is hardly unbearable, compared to other locale’s temperatures. Snow would definitely not be a welcome guest in this neighborhood, so I don’t know why she complains.
She continued to talk, gossiping about the various neighbors. Val, the other side neighbor, she’s lived on this block 30 years, same as Shirley, the woman leaning up against the Bug, prattling on. Her son grew up with Val’s daughter. She mentioned something about naked tricycle pictures that embarrass the two offspring.
There is a couple living right across from Shirley that is pretty odd, apparently. Their grandchildren live with them, and not their remarkably young daughter. Shirley seemed aghast at the fact that the daughter was pregnant at the age of seventeen. But luckily, she was no prude. Earlier in the conversation, she threw out more fucks, shits and bitches than your average sixty year old retiree.
She is a funny old broad. Her short, blonde tinted hair was in spikes today, held fast with styling cream, to be sure. It wasn’t noticeable before today, but she sports a nice set of cherry red nails. She proclaimed loudly that they were her own, adding in a few click-clacks as she proudly showed them off. As mentioned before, she owns a new VW Beatle, her pride and joy. After taking a ride in the vehicle with her, she told the story of how she acquired it. It wasn’t very interesting, compared to the rest of her tales.
All in all, Shirley is a very stand-offish lady; a hep-grandmother, to be particular. Her eyes and ears are always open, but she’s not really the ‘neighborhood spy’ type. That role, according to her, is taken by the old lady a door down from Val. Do all women turn into these funny little busybodies once they reach old age? This street seems to be filled with them.
Even though the weather is so lovely these days, I truly cannot wait for it to turn colder. Then newly knitted scarves and sweaters will be adorned and worn lovingly. It was sad to forsake those keepsake crafts so long due to the near unbearable heat of Tucson. This change has been for the better in many ways; the friendly, family-like neighborhood, the beautiful California climate. This is home.