No Strolls Tonight

That it was dark didn’t worry him much, more that the board-up man might have nailed the last window shut, the one he’d been using as the door to his little place, home would be airtight now, no more coming or going.

11 Comments on “No Strolls Tonight

  1. It’s great how, with so few words, this story brings up such a variety of images to the readers. I didn’t see a squatter stuck inside; I saw one now homeless yet again, kept from shelter and safety. I heard sadness in the voice, even some sense of the prison of homelessness closing in even more. Meaning, this person had recreated a semblance of home, that was now taken, forcing them back into the unknown. My imagination runs rampant, seeing a whole novel within a few sentences. Great job.

  2. I’m thinking the narrator is a squatter realizing he’s stuck inside a home. But I think I’m sourcing that from your McDonald’s-related stories. That’s something I love about yeah write: after a while, we build up writing dossiers with one another.

    • Oh! I hadn’t thought of that, but I can see the connection. Even without that, I did feel empathy for the squatter in this short description.

  3. Very cool image here, Jan. You conveyed an interesting kind of calm resignation here without being overly descriptive. Nicely done.

  4. I imagine this as part of those wonderful stories you’ve been writing. I can just see him, and the place. Great microstory!

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