Yesterday I was reading about Camp NaNoWriMo- a month-long writing camp sponsored by the same people who do National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) each November.
In this camp, you declare your own project which can be literally anything that gets you writing. One suggestion given was to write a drabble a day. A drabble, I learned, is a 100 word short story – complete with beginning, middle, and end. That excited me about as much as six word stories do (the good ones are amazing!) I signed up to participate in the camp, and here is my first drabble:
“I know you,” the lady at the thrift shop said.
I was unable to recall her face or eyes.
“We wait at the same bus stop sometimes.”
“Oh, yeah. Now I recognize you,” I said, realizing that all I could recall was her styled white hair atop her black coat. This was the first time I’d seen her face. I always avoided meeting eyes at the bus stop, am never in the mood for conversation.
It struck me as I was leaving how differently we perceived the connection. To her, she “knew” me. To me, she didn’t have a face.