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Saturday, September 28, 2013

Little writing assignment.

Welcome me back to the desert:

     While I was away, there was a little writing assignment to write about 2 people doing nothing, It should not have been hard. Doing nothing is pretty much what we all do everyday. It just seems really important at the time.
Sometimes it is the doing something that really moves us along. I have a friend (no really I do) and she volunteers at food banks in the Bay area and she does "stuff."

But many of us spend time doing and saying little to move ourselves forward. Learning, I think is a good thing to move ourselves forward. Whatever it is.

Regardless, writing about nothing was hard, because even in nothing there is something. Seinfeld (the TV show) was supposed to be about a group of characters interacting but "nothing" happens. And yet, every week we watched them do nothing and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Her is my little attempt at nothing. These could have been more, there could have been less. I just wanted to paint a little picture:

      “Duh…Hi.” He was slouch-shouldered and never really looked up.

     “Hey.” The other responded like a tepid Tuesday afternoon.


     There was a pause. A bird flew over the two but couldn’t be

bothered to land.


     "Whatcha doing?


     His eyes followed the bird’s flight

and you couldn’t tell who he was talking to.
 

     Eventually, sound smothered the silence…

“Nuthin…”

 
     “WhatCHA doing?” and for a moment there may have been a

 flicker in his eye. It faded quickly.

     He rubbed the dirt road with the toe of his dusty hightop.

.
“Not much...”

     It was not like anyone had to run off. There was really nowhere


 to go but escape the pause between them.


 
      Whatcha doin later?” It could have gone back and forth for

 hours, until maybe one dies or his heart just slowed and slowed and

stopped.


      “Don’t know. You?”


     It was even hard to look up or too watch them.

     There was more space then sound. They may have never

moved, saved a for the sound of a foot rubbing the gravel

brown dirt where there should have been sidewalk.


     “Oh, jes wundrin”


     He sighed and was waiting for more words to come. A streetlight

 overhead flickered on and then woke up full on for the rest of the dark.