. Spinning .

Well at least I completed a story while I was here, thanks to Alan Bigelow’s flash site Webyarns where he presents his work. 

Try one yourself: Webyarns/My Novel

A skateboard competition in the courtyard (justice still?) flying teens from three feet high into a hard slapping landing.  Here and there a crash and burn, reminiscent of the WW II aces maybe they want to be.

A wedding over on Liberty street, beautiful bride in white, grinning groom, bridesmaids in colors of pileated woodpeckers, seated guests and us, the bystanders peeking through wrought iron fencing send wishes, hopes and nagging doubts winding through the rails to reach the pure white cloud of canopy that temporarily protects them.

A pigeon in a silk tree keeping quiet company with a shoe.

And once again I watch the portholed building right on 6th Street where I’m sure I saw a woman swimming by.

(Not to be confused with Philadelphia Story and Paul Newman)

Listening to the city. A flock of friends supporting one of their own because someone’s done him wrong. Stone benches, arched boughs, a courtyard serving appropriately as a court of justice.

A man well dressed, middle-aged seeks justice from his cellphone.  He’d sustained an injury in slipping on the snow outside a Pittsburgh hotel.  He’s from this city though, and I wonder at the irony of reaching for to right the wrong from his choice of setting.  A half hour later, two disconnections, and he lays the matter in his lawyer’s hands.  He’s made his deposition.  I, as jury, watch him walk away, no trace of injured knee; I am suspicious.

And God is in the streets of Pittsburgh for I’ve heard His name bandied about as I walk the streets to watch and look for nothing yet hear and see it all.  He is a familiar here, I guess; perhaps acknowledged leader of the gang.

More to discover as the city opens itself up to a traveler from another type of town.

Got ideas for a new hypertext story on the flight, above the clouds, wondering if the world had disappeared below them. 

Got another idea over a beer, wondering about all the many sides, facets, versions of a single event is viewed and how it can be relayed in fiction–not story, I’m told by the good Professor, but fiction.

Getting ready for the workshop which should be starting in about an hour and a half.  Should be not only enlightening and inspiring, but lotsa fun as well.