Margot, whose website Joyfully Retired printed one of my stories a couple of months ago, has kindly published a new story of mine The Flower Seller.
It displays all my usual usual traits – a little cryptic, with an open-ended narrative – but that’s how I like it, and I think I’m getting to closer to where I want to be, technically.
I try and write my stories as though the reader has opened the door onto someone’s life: they get to observe the events and hear the conversations for a while, and then the door closes again, but with the clear implication that the characters in the stories are still out there somewhere, living their lives. I believe they are.
People are what fascinate me; how people live, how they act, how they relate to each other.
I find it slightly disconcerting when I watch people and I realise that their lives carry on quite happily when I’m gone. They don’t cease to exist just because they’ve left my conscious mind. I know that sounds a bit childish but it’s true. That’s why I like people-watching though, it’s proof. Proof of life.