Tag Archive | free write

Talent Shows

Feb7

This post is a part of the Five Minute Friday link up. We write for 5 minutes on a one-word prompt without heavy editing and see what happens. Today’s prompt is “talent.”

It’s easy to think of talent only being true of those who can sing, or play an instrument, or dance. Shows like “America’s Got Talent” perpetuate that idea, don’t they? We say people who can paint, or act, or write or take great pictures are talented. But there are more areas where talent is evident. Like, say, a talent for making people feel heard. Or a talent for organization. Perhaps someone has a talent for home decorating. Or knowing the right thing to say at the right time.

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Yes, people are born with certain skills that help draw them to certain activities. That would be a natural talent. But even those need years and years of practice to perfect. I am told that I have a talent for writing, but I didn’t just sit down one day and write the great American novel. In fact, I haven’t yet sat down and written the great American novel. I write, yes, and I read. And I read, and read, and read.

And I took English classes. And literature classes. And writing classes. I ask for feedback. I go to writing workshops. I hang out with other writers.

And I write.

FMF buttonLike these short, 5-minute Friday posts. I write. And I try to find other outlets in which to write. Thankfully, I have a paying gig to write.  It’s what I do. It’s what God gave me the skill to do.

A singer sings. An actor acts. A painter paints.

And I write. It may not be flashy and showy. It’s not something the majority of people in the country are going to see. But it’s what God gave me to do.

 

Maybe talent shows need to broaden their definitions.

 

Chapter 13—Talk

Oct15

Click here to start from chapter 1 of this freely written, non-edited, month-long fiction project! Comments are encouraged!

Chapter 13

Talk

 

Erin spent the rest of her workday chatting with customers, helping behind the counter, and replenishing the fall items they sold in a small corner of the shop. Local artisans needed a place to sell their wares that didn’t cost them an arm and a leg in rental for booth space or an actual store of their own. Erin and Harry were more than happy to help them out. So jars of amazing apple butter, homemade fig cookies, candied orange slices sat alongside greeting cards with iconic pictures of the area’s bridges and other sites around the Bay Area.

Erin had lived in Clairmont her whole life. Day trips to San Francisco and Alcatraz, or east to Sacramento to visit the capital, or weekends in Mendocino or Carmel colored her childhood. She loved everything about the area. She was loyal to the area’s sports teams and attended games whenever feasible. And because her father was a professor at Cal, and she herself was an alumna, season tickets to the Bears football games were always a must.

Talking to customers was part of what she loved about working at the bagel shop. There were definitely regulars, like Ronald, who always ordered a poppy seed bagel (Led Bagelin), but never before he had a drug test. Ronald had some difficulty staying out of trouble, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Or Jerry, a reclusive loner who always came in alone, never talked to anyone, and was a mystery to everyone. Even where he lived was a mystery. But he showed up every Thursday for his large black coffee and Simon and Garbagel (known in the regular world as pumpernickel).

And Hazel. Nearly every day, Hazel would come into the shop around mid-morning. She always dressed in a long wool coat and galoshes, no matter the weather. Her graying hair was long but well kept. She spoke quietly and politely and ordered different things, saying she liked the variety. Occasionally she would peruse the items in the small retail area and maybe buy a jar of something or a trinket. She drove a little white Mazda that she’d had every since Erin could remember. The paint was peeling off a small dent on the left rear bumper, and there was a bumper sticker on the right side of the trunk that said “Save the Whales.”

Thinking about Hazel caused Erin to grow worried once again. Yes, it had only been two days, but she felt such a need to talk to someone who would take things seriously. Maybe she could play the voicemail recording for Scott, show him the Green Glass Vineyards and Winery card. Get him to start taking some action. What Erin really wanted to do was get inside Hazel’s house. But what possible reason could she use that Scott would accept? She didn’t know, but she had to try.

After going through the routine of closing the store, Erin sat back down at her desk and picked up her cell phone. She noticed that she had missed a text from her dad: “Swinging by at 5 to take you to dinner. Unless you have other plans.” Checking the time and seeing that it had only come in about 10 minutes ago, Erin texted back a thumbs up emoji and then focused on finishing up the few tasks she still needed to do. It would be good to talk to her dad. He always took her seriously.

Chapter 11—Door

Oct12

Welcome to chapter 11! If you need to, you can start at chapter 1 by clicking here. Remember this is a free write, so no heavy editing has been done. If you find mistakes, feel free to leave a comment. If you’re enjoying the story, share it with others and leave me a comment. If you have a critique, leave me a comment!

Chapter 11

Door

 

It had been six years since Erin had started working at the bagel shop owned by her Uncle Harry. She started at the counter when she was a sophomore in high school. Harry had made her manager before she graduated from Cal with her business degree with the intention of giving the store to her upon his demise. Which didn’t look like it would be anytime soon. For which Erin was eternally grateful.

As she walked in the door with just seconds to spare before the clock chimed 10, Erin breathed deeply, enjoying the yeasty smell of the baked goodies and the 60s vibe Harry carried out so well.

There were several people in line at the counter, so Erin hurried to drop her bag off in her office and then washed her hands at the small sink behind the counter before moving to help Gretchen, the middle-aged grandma who worked 15 hours a week supplementing her husband’s income so she could feed her crafting addiction. Erin was pretty sure Gretchen alone kept the local hobby store in business. She was a sweet woman who loved on everyone who came in and was completely trustworthy. Erin loved her like an aunt.

After the line died down, Erin grabbed herself a cup of coffee and went in search of Harry and found him in the kitchen, sitting on a stool, squinting at the computer screen in front of him. She reached around to give him a one-armed hug. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Hey, girlie!” her uncle greeted her heartily. “Did you know that we’re coming up on our 30th anniversary? I’m looking on Pinterest for ideas of what to do to celebrate.”

Erin chuckled and pulled up another stool to sit beside her gray-haired uncle. “It makes me incredibly happy to see you searching Pinterest,” she quipped. “It just does so much for your persona.”

Harry gave her a sidelong glance. “Don’t get sassy with me, you.” Harry had never married and had no children, so Erin, Sarah and Tyler were his surrogates. He loved them immensely and was as heart-broken as Gordon was about the choices Sarah was making now that she was on her own at college. And he lavished gifts on Tyler’s baby boy, Blake, like any enamored grandpa.

Erin sat watching for a minute before she ventured, “Did you see Hazel this morning, Uncle Harry?”

“No,” he answered distractedly, “But I haven’t been up front much, so she could have come in without me seeing her.”

“I’ll go ask Gretchen,” Erin said, getting up from her chair and taking her mug to the big industrial sink and rinsing it out. “Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, I’m good, girl. See if you can get those invoices from Hiller Foods figured out for me. I think there’s something wrong with last week’s total.” Harry hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen as he answered.

Erin had one hand on the swinging door when the business card in her pocket came to her mind. “Hey, Harry,” she said. “You ever heard of Green Glass Vineyard and Winery?”

“Sure, it’s been around forever,” Harry responded, taking off his glasses to glance at Erin across the room. “Gordy and I used to go up there every now and then before he and your mom got married. Nice place. Why you ask? Looking for a nice getaway for you and Cory?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Not wanting Harry to know that she had been snooping around Hazel’s house on her own, Erin simply said, “Just curious. Don’t stare at that computer too long. It’s bad for your brain.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said as Erin pushed through the door.

Gretchen was refilling the clear glass case with fresh bagels when Erin went back behind the counter. “Hey, Gretch. Seen any sign of Hazel this morning?”

Straightening up and pushing her light brown hair behind her ear, Gretchen thought for a minute before replying. “I don’t think so, kiddo. Why?”

Erin felt her stomach knot in concern. Missing one day in the Village was one thing, but to miss two? Something was definitely wrong. “This is the second day in a row she hasn’t been in,” Erin answered. “She left me a very strange voicemail overnight two days ago, and then hasn’t been around since. I’m worried about her.”

“That is unusual,” Gretchen agreed. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong. What does Scott think?”

“He went to her house after he got off yesterday. Said it didn’t appear her car was there. He figured she just went somewhere. “ Erin moved to the dining area and picked up the dishes people had piled by the trash cans. “Have you ever known Hazel to take a trip anywhere in the 20 years since Bernie and Bryan died?”

Gretchen shrugged. “Can’t say that I have, but there’s a first time for everything.”

Ugh, thought Erin. Why is nobody taking this seriously?

After taking the dishes to the kitchen sink, Erin headed to her office. Charlie, the young college student they hired to help with keeping the kitchen clean would be in before noon to wash up and then tend to keeping the dining area clean through the rest of the day. Whenever needed, Harry would see to baking fresh bagels from the trays prepared by Barry and Bonnie that morning and kept in the walk-in refrigerator.

As she sat, she pulled out the Green Glass Winery business card and studied it. The white card stock was only barely discolored, telling her that it hadn’t been out in the elements very long. It was a little water damaged, which would stand to reason for something outside in the Bay Area fog. Setting it down on her desk, she turned on her desktop computer and waited for it to boot up. She didn’t exactly know what she was looking for, but greenglasswinery.com seemed a good place to start.