what i see

The weather couldn't be further from what it was yesterday. I'm sitting at the pub table and experiencing bouts of productivity in between prolonged daydreaming and staring at all the people walking, rollerblading, cruising, and biking past my window. Right now there's a family on the edge of the water, a little girl in a red sweater and her father next to her wearing a blue cap and sunglasses that obscure his face. Then a few others pick rocks along the shore like flowers and a little boy creeps forward on his brightly painted tricycle. Now the stroller parade...

We have blue sky and sun for Super Bowl Sunday, but not enough junk food. I'm thinking about frying up some hush puppies from a mix my sister sent me. And maybe I'll roast some garlic to go with the brie. Besides that and the summer sausage we are woefully unprepared to gorge. Luckily we are well stocked with beer.

I've written more of my untitled-Shirley-Jackson-inspired short story. It's only about a thousand words, but I think it's the first story I've ever taken seriously. I have an idea how it'll end, I have a pretty good idea what makes up my main character, and I think it's a good concept. So there you go. If I were taking a creative writing class, I don't think I'd be ashamed to share it with a group, and that's my measure for success these days -- where would it fall on the public evisceration scale, and can I defend it?

Besides frolicking families, I can also see and hear a group of seals lying on a yellow buoy out in the water. There are seagulls perched on abandoned pilings and cargo ships with big white letters painted on their sides. The water swirls in an odd pattern, like it's hitting resistance around a rock that I can't see, a single circle of calm surrounded by a consistent current. And then there are the cars passing by with Seahawks flags trailing behind. Only a couple hours to go.

I guess I should stop stalling and get back to it.