Buddy Cushman Art

engaging stories of hope and joy

Both Sides Of the Street – Writing 101

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I wonder what that police car is doing in front of Mrs. Pauley’s house? And who those other people are? Something doesn’t seem right.

I know Mrs. Pauley has been very sad since Mr. Pauley died right after last Christmas. I felt bad for her then, and Mom said that when a person has been living with another person for so long that when one of them dies or goes away the other person gets kind of lost, Mom said like a part of them is missing. I bet that is what happened with Mrs. Pauley. She hasn’t seemed as happy since then.

But something seems wrong over there now. The two cops are inside of the house and there are other cars outside. Wait, now there is a big moving truck parking behind the police car. What the hell. The cops are coming back outside with Mrs. Pauley, they both have one of her arms, and they are taking her down to their cruiser. Another guy, and he is dressed up like a real jerk, is going into her house. Now two guys from the moving truck are going in. This looks like a bunch of crap. I’m going over there.

“Mrs. Pauley, what’s going on?”

“It’s okay Jimmy.”

“Why are the cops here, and why are the moving guys here? What’s going on?

“Son why don’t you go back over to your side of the street. There’s nothing for you here.”

“I spend as much time on this side of the street as the other side Officer, and Mrs. Pauley is my friend, so I want to know what is going on.”

“What’s going on is that Mrs. Pauley isn’t going to be living here anymore, she has a new place to live, and we are helping her out. Now head back over across the street.”

“Is that right Mrs. Pauley, they are helping you move to a new house? I didn’t know you were moving. I don’t want you to move. You have the best Halloween candy, and the coolest green witch’s mask. No one else around here dresses up. It’s like you are one of us kids Mrs. Pauley. And I still use the fishing pole you gave me after Peter graduated from his college and moved away. I don’t want you to go. And why are you crying?”

“It’s just a little sad to leave after all these years Jimmy. I will miss you, you are a good boy. Be sure to say goodbye to your Mama for me.”

“You heard the lady kid. Head back home.”

I think I’m going to sit on my steps all day, and keep guard on Mrs Pauley’s house. I think I might not want to be a policeman anymore too, those guys were jerks, and I don’t think they were really here to help Mrs. Pauley. Maybe I’ll be a fireman. Or maybe I’ll be a lawyer, so I can protect people like Mrs. Pauley.  This stinks.



Author: buddycushmanart

This is my Blog, my opportunity to say what I think and write what I feel. The content has morphed in the two years of existence -- I began with personal tales of sillyness and drunkeness and soberness and times, places, and events within. Then I wrote a whole a lot of opinions about the world and its often sad shape, and how I thought we could make it better (re: engaging stories of hope). More recently I've taken to writing about this and that, including links to movies, Ted Talks, rock and roll, other writers' web pages, and more. These past seven years I have taken up the life of a painter, and my work can be seen on my web page ( www.buddycushmanfineart.com ) and my Etsy shop (www.etsy.com/shop/musicflower67). But I've been writing since I was just a young thing living on the Massachusetts coast, and storytelling is my home. I have a number of fiction works in varying degrees of completion, and have published two books of fiction in the last year, under the name W.B. Cushman. And more recently a book of poetry - "Minor Revelations". But it's here I get to share my whatevers of sorrow and hope, and hopefully, wonder and magic. Thanks for stopping in.

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