Last December, Linda Brewer, an administrator at a skin cancer lab in Tucson, resolved to write a short story every month in 2013. By year's end she hopes to have them published.
This is a silly one --- sorry. December's will be nice and grim. I'm going to get started on it tomorrow because I'll be traveling up to the north country this month.
If I could think of all the story elements and their right sequence and what they mean, right at the beginning of the month, I'd be less of a nervous wreck. It all has to come out over time. Many post-it notes have been slain in the making of these stories.
Here is the opening of this month's story, "WWJLD?"
Nora never really knew how she got to work every day, only that she floated on the music of Palestrina while she drove, and at the end of every day she knew she must have driven with care because she never had an accident. When the Credo ended she would find herself in the farthest, cheapest region of the parking lot behind the football stadium. From there she walked a mile along the path under the big maple trees, and crossed the mossy stone bridge that went straight over the street to the fourth floor of the medical center. She was inside the building, but she wasn't "there" yet. She walked down a flight of concrete stairs to the third floor, the main floor, and then her journey really began.
On the Monday morning she did the same, but it wasn't the same.