A Portrait of Walter

Walter is married. I like that.
I also like his hair, almost entirely white, but boyish in the way it sweeps to the right and lays flat (ish) against his head. And his eyebrows, bushy almost beyond belief. Walter works. Works hard, I imagine. His blue jacket adds to the illusion of youth, but the lines of his face betray him. Asian and wise. Maybe his family descends from royalty and here he is working on this damn mountain. Looking a little tired and a little lonely, as he rides this bumpy bus home from work. Saturday afternoons should be for Walters.

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Let the Scene Write Its Self (Everyday Inspiration, Day 10)

I got behind on these just a few days after I started them, so I’m just writing the posts whenever I feel inspired to write them (or as was the case with Day 9, pushing thru the ones I don’t feel that excited about so that I can get to the ones that actually sound interesting, like Day 10). The task for Day 10 was to let the scene be the inspiration, in a way to let the setting become the story. I was at Starbucks this morning and decided I wanted to do this task. I was going to take notes and then write a piece based on my notes, but I actually think my notes are written well enough that they are the meat of the post already. So here goes:

DEP Starbucks 11:34 AM 073016
A pair interacts across the diagonal in front of me. A man and a woman. The woman is a bit strange and honestly a little rude. There’s an older well-dressed woman eating a pastry and squinting at a smart-phone. Another older woman wearing a pretty red blouse and blue nails that look young, but not out of place on her. She’s having a close conversation with a younger woman. It looks serious, but not sad or tense. The younger woman has glasses and pretty hair pulled back. Against the wall, another older woman. She’s using a laptop. Glasses and nice hair, silver mixed with native dark brown or black. She might be Native American or perhaps Pacific Islander, I’m not good at uncovering roots. A middle-aged dark man, can’t tell quite what he’s doing, but he’s slouched and doesn’t look happy. Another pair in the middle of the room. I can’t glean many details about them because of the distance. They are actively engaged in conversation, but not overly lively. A young man on a computer further down, perhaps watching a movie. An employee, petite and pretty, sweeps the floor with an ugly yellow broom. Employees behind the counter, I can’t see them, but I can hear as they talk light and friendly to each other between customers. Two Hispanic men out on the porch, they’ve got bags with them, maybe homeless, but maybe not. Out the window, an older model car, dark red Mercury, dirty and waiting in the drive-thru. I’m sitting in the corner, just letting it all exist around me. Plaid dress, cuffed jeans, pink shoes. 11:54 AM