It is already August, it’s hard to believe that we’re more than halfway through 2020. But I also have another set of stories to write for my patrons. The first Patreon exclusive is a Drama. So, I started toiling with some potential storylines, but I couldn’t lock onto a single coherent thought, until I visited NYC Midnight’s challenges of the past. These prompts have a way of focusing my creating juices and narrowing my scope. When I plucked one of the Drama posts, I didn’t know how I’d work a strawberry field and a tote bag into the tale, but I came up with a dramatic story.
With the prompt in place, I sat down, and the story flowed from my fingertips into my computer. With my initial draft finished, I turned my attention to a couple other drafts while I let the story percolate in the back of my mind. When I returned to my Drama, for the second and third passes, I fine-tuned the narrative and ensured that everything was in place. So, come join me for Lucile’s stroll.
Follow Lucile as she wanders her Uncle’s strawberry farm lost in her thoughts. Will the tranquility of the field bring her peace…
Lucile’s fingertips slid across the worn boards of the raised platforms of her Uncle’s berry field. With every step, a bunch of green and red fruits collided with her fingers, their rough surface rubbing her delicate skin. As she strolled through the strawberry field, it took her a few moments to realize that she couldn’t feel the touch of the smooth wood. Her hands jerked to her chest as she held her breath.
When her lungs burned, she turned around and forced herself to resume breathing. Lucile’s head drifted left and right, taking in the size of her Uncle’s field. She scurried back into the neatly constructed rows of strawberry plants, clutching her stomach. Lucile’s hands lifted the nearest bunch of berries, plucking the ripest one. She pulled her canteen from her tote and washed the delicate fruit. When she finished, Lucile dropped the bottle back into the bag and resumed her meandering.
“What are you doing out here?”
Lucile forced a lump down her throat as her grip tightened about the fruit. Her eyes fell to the ground as her foot dug a furrow in the soil. “I’m trying to make sense of everything that’s happened, Uncle.”
The man sauntered up to his niece and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tapped her clutched fingers. “If you squeeze that any harder, you won’t be able to enjoy it.”
“Oh,” Lucile’s free hand leapt to her mouth, emphasizing her blushing cheeks.