I was going through my phone in an attempt to free up some space and generally delete a bunch of things that were just taking up the screen. You know, the apps that you come across every once in a while and say “why the heck do I have this on my phone?” Well, as I dug a little deeper into many of the forgotten files more and more space became available in my memory.
One
of the areas that I keep overlooking is the random notes and ideas that I type
into the yellow screen in the hope to not forget the thoughts. Unfortunately, I
frequently forget that I recorded the ideas. It is only when I go into the
application to make another note when I remember the other content that is just
sitting there. Thankfully, the practice of recording my notes in my phone isn’t
incredibly common.
On
Friday, I had a thought and opened my notes. After recording the random clicker
of quasi creative thought, I scrolled through the other notes that were sitting
there. Some of the sentences were interesting and could, possibly, be fleshed
out to be a somewhat interesting piece. Others, not so much (that collection of
completely inconsequential randomness was quickly trashed). But, I will let you
be the judge so here is what I found when I read through the forgotten lines…
11/21/11
– The
road laced the nightmares of parents in the small Philadelphia suburb when
their children turned 16. Every year, a new cross, a new mound of flowers, a
new collage of mournful notes lay exposed to the elements. The curve itself
wasn't sharp - there was nothing treacherous about its degree. It was the
suddenness of the bend that robbed one of control. It was to the relief of
everyone in the town when the township decided to close the road. No more
nightmares. No more haunting images and nights filled with pacing. No more
worrying that they wouldn't see their children graduate. No more ghosts. Years
passed and the old road slowly slipped back into the winding creek beside it.
However, the curve remained seemingly untouched by time. Last summer, enough
time had passed and the stigma had faded to the point that a developer
purchased the land at what he thought was a steal. He was looking forward to
the profits the thought were sure to follow.
7/4/13
– I
hear the sounds of fireworks in the distance without a splash of color to be
seen. Instead I watch the fireflies pulse in the darkness to the staccato of
liberty.
7/8/13
– Motors
whining, suspensions creaking, gears popping, and tired what seem to be tearing
and ripping at the road. Where are they going at 2am?
11/12/13
– Along
the back left wall the lamp lit the desk with a light that seemed to syphon the
warmth and energy from the other three corners of the room.
2/28/14
– Bobby
expected things to happen for him. He believe that luck was on his side he just
needed that one moment to turn things around. It was this sense of entitled
hope and opportunity that kept him searching for a genie in the bottom of a
bottle.
So,
now that you have read through the random thoughts that have passed through my
fingers over the past 2+ years, what would you like to read more about? What would
you like me to attempt to develop into some sort of creative draft? Let me know
what you would like to read and I will make an attempt to expand the thought into
something that resembles a story, poem, article, etc. I have no idea what will
come out of the exercise but I will give it a shot.
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