This is a little restaurant in Perdido Key, Florida. I call it The Restaurant Under the Bridge, though I am certain it has another name. I think the linguine wins over the grits but one must try each dish because both are hm, yeah. (new name)
This photo of hm, yeah. is part of my new writing assignment. The assignment is for writer's group though I am taking it from another writing group I joined back in the day. Stu.
Instead of his green room I am using the one above. (Cheating)
There are two characters in the story. (I have no idea who they are. In my crazy head they are going to reveal themselves to me.)
Traumatic event. (Damn, Stu.)
No more than 1000 words. (I'm not even going to count them.)
One act play. (Oh, Stu.)
Titled hm, yeah.
Audience hears the sound of high heeled shoes drumming heavy against wood floor.
Woman enters scene. Black skirt at knee. Professional looking.
Woman sits in booth. Stares blankly at upper portion of bench in front of her.
Audience hears a cell phone ring. The jingle of a belled door opening then closing.
Audience hears boots walking slowly across floor.
Man in jeans, dirty t-shirt. Cap on head. Sits in booth across from woman.
Man: We've talked about this. You knew it was coming.
Man: So what are you going to do?
Woman: I don't know.
Man: You talked about school.
Woman: Yeah. I told you. They'd pay for it.
Man: So you're going back to school.
Woman: Yes. I have no other choice.
Man: It's going to be okay. (Man reaches across table turns his hand over, offering it to woman.)
Woman: I know. (She cries quietly. Stage darkens.)
A single screen lights. Black and white video of woman giving an oral history starting with the day she lost her job fifteen years ago and what happened after that.
The one act play is a series of dinner theaters located in a park next to an abandoned mill which once employed the woman. The dinner is picnic style hosted by a local restaurant. A musical guest follows.
Today I am grateful for the four other writers in my writer's group, how they inspire me to do like the you who comes to this blog.
'Cause otherwise I'd just be doing this for me and that's no fun.