The Writerʻs Eye

Last Saturday, I wandered around Bethesda with my niece after Indian food and serious talk. It was sticky and the air was thick, but the streets were full of people looking for something to keep them going on a swampy summer night.

We kept talking, but I let my writerʻs eye roam. I saw a boss and a waiter arguing at the back of a garden restaurant, a little girl twirling away from her distracted father, an invisible man standing while people passed within inches of him. A fight, a dance/disaster, a shadow play. Sometimes, everythingʻs a story.

Itʻs part of the delight of writerly people-watching, why writing in public places can be so rewarding. And because my niece is a writer, we got to share our little discoveries. My favorite was the clock-maker huddled over some project in his shop, crammed with watches and clocks, while a green parrot watched us perched in his window. Magical….

Watch on! Write on! The world feeds our writing habit, if we only let it.


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