Last night I was cooking dinner and an image flashed in my mind of a woman with green eyes reflecting a golden sunrise off her sniper rifle scope.
Nearly 900 words (according to Word) it’s a story that’s coming together quickly and I had no idea it was in me.
I used to write short stories, a lot of them, all through middle and high school. I didn’t have very many friends in middle school and my capacity to pull random lies out of my butt had to be used for something. So when a teacher suggested writing them down, I was skeptical. Then came the inevitable poor poetry phase, usually angst fueled tripe with bad structure and even worse imagery. I was enthralled during art class and mostly dismissed what talent I did have as being a good method and fair execution. I’m a master demoralizer. After that I had more important things to focus on, like boys. I got married and went to art school for a semester and ran out of money. I loved every piece I created while I was there and I’ve always wondered where my inspiration has come from. I still don’t know but I think I’ve just written part of a back story for this piece.
It’s done in prismacolor markers in case you’re interested in the methods. No digital manipulation other than scanning it in. It was a standard exercise to get us look at shape, color, and shading. I think it was one of the first projects we did. Not necessarily interesting but it’s always been my favorite.
Anyhoo, I’m planning on working more on this story, maybe it’s more than a short story. I really don’t know yet, but I’m letting the story take me where it will.