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CHECK OUT MY STORY
NEIGHBORLY LOVE
IN THIS FUNDRAISING ANTHOLOGY
just released by the Writing Group
TRIANGLE ASSOCIATION
of FREELANCERS (aka TAF)
I
step out onto my back deck. The leafless trees cannot disguise the monstrosity
behind my small cottage. The four-level structure leers down at my property,
but I am getting used to it. I bought the cottage for a bargain during the big
building’s construction. The former owner knew what was going up.
I’d prepared for
this. My bedroom and den have thick, room darkening, navy-blue curtains. Noise is
another bother. If I leave windows or my back screen door open for air flow, I
hear cars in the parking garage beneath the structure. Worse, car alarms blare
at all hours.
As if on cue, an
alarm blasts, nearly making me spill coffee on my slacks.
“I am a writer,
y’all! Have a heart and keep the noise level down!” Yelling into the wind makes
me feel better, but it wouldn’t accomplish much.
The alarm stops.
“About time!” Taking
a deep breath, I sit at my deck’s table. As I think about whether or not I
should bring my laptop outside, or return to my claustrophobic den, a voice
answers.
“Sorry, sir. I
must have hit the alarm button instead of the lock. My car be new and this bloody
fob be verra’ weird.”
I pause.
The woman with a
lovely accent sounds young, but I can’t see her through the windowless walls of
the parking garage. Never mind, she worked her magic and quiet has resumed.
Sipping my coffee,
I think about my new book. The decision to write a Scottish historical novel
came out of left field. Mom reminded me last month of our Scottish ancestry,
although our ancestors emigrated centuries earlier. I feel American, not
Scottish. However, a visceral need to write a novel with a Scottish theme hit me
one night, so here I sit wondering how to approach it.
Watching movies
like Braveheart and episodes of Outlander isn’t enough. My niece
made me sit through the animated Brave movie. They all gave me a sense
of Highland life, but not enough to write an outline.
“Ye
be looking deep in thought, but I again wish to apologize for the rude noise.
Will ye forgive me?”
I choke on my coffee.
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