“I wouldn’t go any further, unless you want your delusions scattered,” his daughter warned. She was sitting in the shadows at the far end of the porch.
“I was dropping off his jacket he left at the diner,” Joyce explained.
“I’ll take it, that way his unscrupulous reputation will remain without confirmation,” she said as she stood up and walked towards Joyce.
Joyce was confused. She handed the jacket to his daughter. She stood there for a moment gazing at his daughter, as if waiting for an explanation.
His daughter took the jacket as she exhaled her cigarette. “Thank you, I’ll tell him, you stopped by,” she said.
“Ok, thanks,” Joyce said as she took a few steps backwards to head towards her car. She kept staring at his daughter in wonder. His daughter glared at Joyce with a half smirk as Joyce got into her car. Joyce could feel his daughter’s eyes to continue to burn into her as she looked into the rearview mirror while she drove out of the drive.
Joyce didn’t want to leave and was curious of what goes on behind closed doors at the Fuller’s residence. Each time he came into the diner, he was polite, had the capacity to make others laugh, and his friends that would join him seemed to respect his opinions shared.
He had asked Joyce out last night, encouraging her to share some time, to get to know him better. Now she had been warned to forget their last conversation.
Prompts are creative ways to get the imagination active. So to speak, to get the juices flowing to create, to develop a perception that can grow. Using a prompt can give me that stimulation needed to build upon a concept or notion. I find using lines from the newspaper, or even comments from friends and family and pictures have inspired me with ideas. I was listening to a conversation and the statement, “She kept staring at his daughter,” stayed in my thoughts. Ideas of a mystery started to progress. Who knows where I will go with this dramatic beginning.