When You Have Nothing to Say

Your mind just wanders, you watch birds out the window, sort old coupons and throw out the expired offers for tires, massage, windshield fixes, all that stuff. You sort the bills and put the ones you must pay tomorrow in front of you on the desk. You check every site on your favorites list, try searching for old news stories on line. You do anything to avoid the fact that right this minute you have nothing urgent to tell the world. Writing is such a roll of the dice. But at least you sit there at the desk, just in case a character or a scene pops up. Maybe the birds will do a dance at the edge of the porch. Maybe one of these coupons will trigger a conflict. Should you go to lunch with that friend just to use the coupon? Imagine a friend you haven't seen in years meeting you at a restaurant you've never been too. Coupon in your pocket, your best face on, you get there early--or late--and look at each face waiting to be seated. And there she is, more lined, more gray, but still recognizable. Aha, now we have the beginning of a story. What happens next? Who suffers? Who benefits? How are you changed? How is the friend changed by this meeting? Go for it!