good monday to you, readers & writers. it's a new week, and i hope that write away every day will help make yours great as we read & write together!
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writers, i won't say much at all about this photo prompt (where i took it, what it is, exactly) - i'll just leave it to your wonderful imaginations. share your story, poem or creative non-fiction spin on the photo by clicking on comments below. here's mine:
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He could be anyone, this Dave. Might be David Letterman is in town, or else Dave Barry. No? David Beckham. David Caruso. David Schwimmer. David Copperfield. David Chappelle. David Bowie? Or, okay, this Dave could be my son Dave. He loves to write his name. Everywhere. On books, notepads, medical consent forms, newspaper, wrapping paper, any kind of paper. With my lipstick on the bathroom mirror, with the cheese whiz on four little crackers, with frosting on his birthday cake (and mine, and his father's, and his sister's). Ever since he was little. DAVE. DAVE. DAVE. DAVE. Everywhere I look, there it is. All over town. On the dirty back windows of cars and trucks. Scratched on the sand by the ocean. And, last year, when we visited my cousin out in Connecticut, in big life-sized letters carved by his snow boots into freshly fallen snow at the park. DAVE. So it doesn't surprise me to see his name, ever so faintly, here on this city storage unit. DAVE. I guess it's a good thing I didn't name him Captain Fantastic Faster Than Superman Spiderman Batman Wolverine Hulk And The Flash Combined (officially the longest name in the world).
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hey you, whatever your name is, come write with me! =-)
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Dave
ReplyDeleteI’m dying in the morgue. My intern stabbed me in the heart with a filet knife. Pretty stupid that I would die from an object used to cut up fish when I cut up people for a living. I clutched my chest with my left hand to slow the flow of blood that I knew would not stop and was glad that my boss did not grant me the dehumidifier that I had asked for. Cleaning the stainless steel down here had become tedious as the corrosion would begin to take hold after two days. After I die, the forensics team will lock this place down for at least four days and that will be plenty of time to reveal my killer. I had to concentrate very hard but I was able to leave an oily finger trail of the four letters of my killers name on the steel door just above my head. As I drift into unconsciousness, my brain flashes that my killers name is Edward and my husbands name is Dave.