in my head about my neighbor. The widow and her daughter had lived together most of the time since the father died. Then about a year or so ago the mother moved to town to live with the other daughter, leaving the daughter living by herself on the homeplace. A few months ago, a someone driving a pickup truck started living there. I would see the pickup and the daughter's car there most days. Then, suddenly, a couple of month ago, daughter's car was gone, never to return, and what looked to me to be a different pickup was there most nights. Once in a while mother's car or other daughter's car would be there, sometimes for a few days, and sometimes just a day. My novel in my head said that daughter had moved her boyfriend into the home with her, mother ran them both off, and now someone else was living in mother's house. I could not decide who the pickup truck guy could be. Then, a few days ago, I passed pickup truck on the road. The driver was daughter # 1. She likely bought a pickup, and instead of trading in her car, sold it outright after a few weeks. This is not nearly as good a story as I was writing in my head.
2 comments:
What a novel. Could first daughter have murdered second so she could inherit all?
I make up stories in my head about neighbors all the time, exactly like your novel. Then I will tell Cliff my story, then I'll say, "That's just another one of my stories."
And he shakes his head and looks at me like I'm crazy.
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