I find stories everywhere and I grab em when nobody’s looking.
Sometimes the stories are attached to people I pass on the street.
I take the stories home and make them my own.
Yesterday I saw a story in a red hat and fishnet hose running down the street waving for a taxi.
I wasn’t fast enough. The story got away.
Today I saw a story on the Broadway bus.
It was attached to a bedraggled little woman wearing a sparkly witch hat.
She had a sign hanging around her neck. I read the sign as the woman came down
the aisle. It had a lot of biblical quotations on it.
I just knew she would sit beside me. And she did. Her sign kept jabbing me in the ribs.
She told me that she had a vision from God who was sending down a doozy of an earth quake.
I like it when God uses words like doozy. I got off the bus with the story in my net. It’s my story now.
I don’t think I will see the woman with the witch hat again, but I have the story.
The other day I went to the tea shop. They have a new girl working there.
She was dripping with stories. She was frosted with stoies. She was festooned with stories.
I couldn’t possibly grab them all. They moved so quickly. One flew out of the nest of silver bangles around her wrist.
The girl had a face like Kewpie doll. She wore a black beret.
The story got up on it’s hind legs and asked me for a cigarette.
The story had a raspy voice. The story had a wicked addiction.
The girl that she was attached to was a vegan and would never touch tobacco.
The story nearly jumped in my net. It didn’t need the slightest persuasion.
It was coming home with me. I know what to do with a story like that.