Slice of Life: Day 14: Piece of Another Puzzle: 001

                                                         

                                                                  Image from: stockadobe.com

I almost became a ghostwriter - a gig that could definitely put some layers of Benjamins in your wallet. For someone who wants to be published, it's a chance to get my name out to a broader demographic. I spent a lot of time writing my sample - now ghostwriting scraps - knowing exactly where, how and why it would fit. Unfortunately, it didn't work out. Things don't happen for a reason, but God continually works to make things good. Romans 8:28.

While He's working, the one good thing I can extract from this situation is that I now have a piece of writing I can use for another story, another puzzle. I worked over twenty hours on these Another Puzzle blog entries (1700 words)...and there's still work to be done. It's the life of a writer. I also have time to spend on my own stories. See? It's all good.

These Another Puzzle entries show how relationships are formed in various ways - some lasting longer than others. Some with greater expectations. The point was to show how the protagonist, until going to boot camp and eventually war, never experienced a friendship so powerful it would be better referred to as a brotherhood. 

Ghostwriting Scrap Part 1:

fiction

As a kid, I would make friendships during recess, from four-square on the white-faded lines atop the gravel to soccer or kickball on the field. They came easy. Never planned. Kids naturally gravitated toward their interests, and we would keep running into each other, whether at Little League or Boy Scouts. Nothing more was asked or expected of us than to come out and play on Saturday, throw ball and talk about girls.

 Sometimes, minor encounters sparked by fate’s spontaneity would intervene, like when I failed to recognize the braking system on roller skates. I took a spill – which is to say I crashed - at the rink only to be rammed into by another skater. As he flipped over me, the wheels of his upside-down skates put a gash on my upper lip. The embarrassing event led to an apology soda, a few failed attempts at the claw machine, then a sleepover where we played G.I. Joe in the backyard for hours, followed by late-night battles on the new Atari 2600. Like most, the friendship faded as we entered high school. A different world. A place you could find comfort with people that have known you for years, but also comfort in the clean slate you had as you molted into a new phase.

The ebbs and flows of high school found me around different people for different reasons – the biggest being girls. Sports played a part, too, if you call taking off your shirt to show off your pecs and abs and juggling the soccer ball a sport. This technique in getting girls’ attention wasn’t exactly tried and true. Just tried. Mouthing off at teachers wasn’t a sport either, but I sure acted like it was. You may not make friends in detention, but you meet some interesting people.

Ironically, the girl I dated most in high school I met when I wasn’t vying for attention and wasn’t even at school. It, irony continued, happened while decked out in full winter gear, my face covered by a hand-knit scarf muffling the strain – and whining - a shovel full of snow was putting on me. All she could see were my eyes, which she later said had something different in them. I’m still unsure what she meant, but I never expected my first date to come out of shoveling sidewalks after a blizzard. I’ve learned expectations are a waste of time, mostly leaving you in the dust of disappointment. I’d rather be pleasantly surprised – like I was after she walked away, her strands of blonde hair flecked with white flakes highlighted by the streetlamps. The sudden rush of blood gave me the strength of ten men. I shoveled every driveway in the neighborhood. 

...to be continued

-rg