Carl won’t go away. I wanted him to be done, but he won’t just go. I am at 6000 words and I can see at least another 1000 more before I’m done. But I will be done with it.
There’s my vampire story that will be fun to write. I’m writing it while I am finishing Carl,
There’s another story that I had an idea for. It’s more of a literary work, I think.
The story is about causality, I think. The main character is a woman named Joyce Barnacle. Totally stealing, I know. But that’s what I came up with.
She’s going to a psychic to redeem a couple that someone gave to her the year before on her birthday. Because she has never ever let anything go to waste, much less not make the most out of something free, she feels compelled beyond reason to go to this psychic.
The gift was actually from an ex-boyfriend of hers – he broke up with her not long after giving her the coupon – and even at that, coming from an ex, she could still not throw the coupon out and let it go to waste.
She ends up having to wait for over an hour before the psychic sees her and give Joyce her free reading.
Not exactly sure of all the psychic is going to read – I think most of it will have something vaguely to do with falling downstairs and when I say vague, I mean that it is so open-ended it is subject to a variety of interpretations.
Joyce takes all of the advice with a grain of salt – laughing off a better part of it but truthfully she’s laughing for the same reason some superstitious people whistle when they walk past a graveyard.
Because she spent so much time waiting to see the psychic and because she spent so much time receiving the reading, she goes to the restaurant next door and decides to have a plate of fish and chips.
While having lunch she decides to reschedule the rest of her day. She decides to spend the day relaxing ; even toying with the idea of taking a nap in the afternoon – after taking a nice long walk around the block of her neighbourhood. She realizes she has never done this before. She always thought her neighbours were only the people that lived on either side of her.
And because she made that decision and because the fish and chips made her thirsty, she buys herself a couple of pints of beer (Guiness, maybe?) and borrows a pen from her waitress to do the crossword in a newspaper left at the side of the bar.
She enjoys the crossword and orders another pint, much to her own surprise. But she orders this last pint and asks for the bill.
She asks for the bill in order to fend off any temptation to order another beer and potentially ruin her pleasant buzz and spend the rest of her day feeling dopey and at loose ends with herself.
She doesn’t finish the last pint, as a matter of fact, and pushes herself out of her chair to get up and use the washroom. More to throw water on her face and clear her head. The classic ‘powdering the nose’, but not quite. She doesn’t want to pee in the washroom – she’s never felt comfortable peeing anywhere but home.
Because of the chain of events that began with an ex-boyfriend who she was desperately in love with, buying a novelty gift he never expected Joyce to redeem, and because he didn’t really know her well enough to know that she would be overwhelming consumed with the need to use the coupon, Joyce goes to the washroom in the basement of the restaurant and falls down the last four steps and breaks her leg. She is then rushed to the hospital to have pins put into her leg and is forced to endure months of rehabilitation to make sure that she recovers fully and does not run the risk of sufferring more debilitating damage later in life.
The whole story – the plotless story – is going to be about a girl who goes to a psychic to get direction on her life and hopefully some insight into herself, and ends up doing something that the psychic could not predict but was inevitable once the ex-boyfriend bought the coupon.
One of the references I want to make in the story is about her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, I want to somehow incorporate the french term ‘coup de foudre’. It means love at first sight, but actually, it’s a more intense turn of phrase than that. It kind of means a love that was always meant to be, a relationship that forms as a triumph of love, an overthrowing of the soul. Much, much more than just love at first sight, you see.
It’s not going to be high literature, and it is an old idea I’ve had churning about in one form or another for about a year or so now, but I think I can manage it.
And, yes, this was a complete diversion from dealing with Carl and his problems. I’m trying to get him to just get into the damned car and leave but he just won’t listen!