Rock Original - Day 25

The following bit is about the original rock idea. I found this a few days ago and this story triggered a couple of other stories. I'm a little out of sequence as the Anti-Lucy story came a couple of stories later.

(1996)

   I'd like to think that it all came about as a result of inspiration but in fact these very words that your are reading right now are a direct result of desperation.  My birthday had just passed and at 43 I began to think that perhaps the great wagon of doing something great and wonderful for the world had rolled past me while I slept. It probably came through here at about two in the morning and the hum of the air conditioner just smoozed out all the outside sounds as the fateful wagon moved on in the darkness.

   I pondered these things over my morning coffee. I wanted so much to write something. Many writing experts say write what you know. Fat Chance. I know nothing! My husband has all the brains, I just follow orders. I laugh at this as it's a running joke between him and I, except that, I'm the only one aware of the joke.

    Lately, he has had me helping him clean out this huge garage that he'd leased to scum, sucking morons, who happened to get behind in their rent, then packed up and left town in the middle of the night. Probably chasing after that wagon of fate that left me behind. Anyway, there were 240 used tires and three 55 gallon barrels of used motor oil to deal with. On top of that, everything in the building was covered with a film of grease. It was a gosh, awful, mess. In the middle of all this chaos and gunk, I felt sad. I felt that I would never actually write anything worthwhile.

     Later, I was setting at my kitchen counter thinking about my predicament and happened to notice the rocks sitting on the window sill. There are about 25 or 30  small rocks that I've gathered during various nature hikes. The colors, shapes, patterns, unique on each of them. As I looked closer, something stirred in the back of my mind. My eyes moved to a tiny rock that my friend, Ruth, gave me.

It had a gold and brown color with a spiral, wormlike formation in the center of it. As I looked at this rock, it occurred to me that perhaps this rock held the key to wonderful stories. I took the rock and put it in my sock, the pants I was wearing didn't have pockets. I left the rock there as I watched television. In the back of my mind, I began to think "What if this could work? What if I do get inspired by this thing? What if it starts talking to me? What if I end up in a mental ward, clinging to this stupid rock, like it was God or something?" I was thrilled!