It’s Too Late to Say It’s Never Too Late

 

Where the punks in our town choose to sleep (PHOTO BY MOLLY BARTELS, EVANSVILLE COURIER & PRESS).

Where the punks in our town choose to sleep (PHOTO BY MOLLY BARTELS, EVANSVILLE COURIER & PRESS).

It was the pause between her haunted words that terrified me. Of course, it was her words repeated to the others that terrified them.  Not because it was something she said, or the days between her visits, but because I was the only one that could hear her scream.

They said it was too late to run for office. 

Our local paper picked up the story, like any decent rag in a small town would. It was a national story, you see, and the other twelve-hundred people in the town of Castro didn’t seem to care that the story was me. I was our Sherriff for ten years. 

I served less than sixty days. 

Probably on account that I committed myself. Problem with turning myself in was that it really did mean everyone thought I was nuts. My voices were unanimous. What I really needed was a break from the new wave of punks who decided to hassle our town and sleep behind our one Greyhound station. Why they chose Castro over Kansas City, would take more time than I had to figure out.

We were positive they’d be gone by the time we got out. I got out. Jesus, it was just me who was positive. I alone walked out. Didn’t matter, they were still there, and I stood in front of them ready to say, it may be too late to remember why, but it wasn’t too late to remember how. 

Her voice came to me, from the dark corner of a room draped with dread from the silence between her words, the punks ran toward the only way out – through her shadow.

  —

This was taken from my journal.  I wrote this last week during a writing workshop in response to a prompt:  It’s too late too, it’s never too late (the group made a list – I chose: It’s too late to run for office/too late to remember why, its never too late to talk to the dead/never too late to remember how).  It was the first, of hopefully many, writing exercises with Laguna Writers! 

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Categories: Creative Writing, Fiction

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

15 replies

  1. HOLY GUACAMOLE, BATMAN! You, dear sir, are an AMAZING writer! WOW!!! xx

  2. You are very talented. I am excited to find your blog. 🙂

  3. Brilliant opening sentence. It made it impossible to scroll past in the reader.

    • Awesome, thank you not only for the kind words but for stopping by to share them. I love perusing the reader, it’s like hunting opening lines for compelling tales. I’m so thrilled that my words lured you in…now I just have to find a way to channel those vibes going forward! Thank you again!

  4. You had me at the first sentence. I love it.

    • Wow, that is awesome. Thank you! What is crazy, but probably not that surprising, is that I have labored over first sentences in the past. I mean, on some posts (and definitely in my yet to be published novel) I have spent an insane amount of time finding just the write words. Admittedly, this was stream of conscious – uncensored by that nasty internal editor! I’m tickled by the feedback I have received. Most avid readers or writers have a favorite first line – do you? I may blog about it later, so I’m reserving my thoughts until then 🙂

      Thank you again!

  5. This would be a good story for The Community Storyboard. It is a great group of folk who love writing, supporting each other and hanging out. We are at http://www.theneverendingstorydepository.wordpress.com It is a great way to get acquainted with other writers. Ionia Martin and Charles Yallowitz started this thing and it has really caught on. They are two of the most supportive folk that i know. We have already had a few get Freshly Pressed. Check it out!

    • Wow, thank you! I will pop by. I am waiting for that day when something I write gets picked up as Freshly Pressed! But either way, this sounds like a really cool blog – can’t wait to check it out. Really, thank you so much for recommending it to me!

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  1. It’s Too Late to Say It’s Never Too Late | The Community Storyboard

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