Writing in Reverse- July 16, 2009

My classmates and I were asked to choose a photograph from Bill Sullivan's website which contained photographs of ramdom people walking through a New York City turnstile. After choosing a photograph we were to wirte a narrative fiction using the expressional photograph as our rock of imagination.

It was 11:02pm, Duncan Steel was taking his usual walk down West Houston St. He sat on a nearby bench covered in newspapers, one of which he picked up. The front read 17-year old male shot to death, somewhat interested Duncan pulled out his pocket light and began to read the fist half of the article, he was then interupted by an old woman wearing red little shoes and a long skyblue coat "can you walk me home?" the woman asked, unable to say no, Duncan stood up cramed the newspaper under his armpit and began to conversate with the old woman as they walked.

"It's just past Saint Mark's Place" the woman said. Not a problem miss, I'm curious though, what is it you doing out here so late all alone? I was out eating dinner with my daughter when her husband called and said he needed a ride home from work, I simply told her i would catch a cab and be fine. But when i walked out of the restaurant i realized my wallet was missing, i ran back inside of the restaurant but it was no where to be found. That is where my journey began, and so far i have walked six blocks. That is terrible, Duncan replied. Can i buy you some coffe? Oh no, i'm fine it will only be a few minutes until we reach my apartment.

Sooner than later Duncan and the little old woman whos name he still did not know arrived at her apartment. She offered him to come inside and have a cup of coffe, again unable to say no, Duncan walked up 7 flights of satirs to the old womans apartment. He sat down at her small kitchen table, her apartment gave the smell of peppermint and pipe tabacco. Sugar and cream? the old woman asked, yes please Duncan replied. Dunacan gulped the whole cup down, my gosh that coffe was delicious. It is a special coffe bean my daughter bought for me in Peru a few months ago. Well it was amazing coffe miss, but i do have to be getting home. The old womans face sunk in and she turned her eyes to the floor, will you please stay and keep me company? I'm a lonely woman now, my daughter is all i have left and even at that she is occupied with her own life. I just want someone to talk to...Duncan for the third time was unable to deny her request.

The night flew by as the old woman taught Duncan how to play Egyptian backgammon. They exchanged stories of their most memorable times of their lives and drank cups and cups of her delicious coffe. It was 6:15 when Dunken realized he needed to get going to work. I have had a wonderful time with you Duncan told the old woman, but I must be at work soon. The old woman nodded her head and walked into the kitchen. Duncan used this time to use the bathroom and wash up. When he walked out into the kitchen she was no where to be found.

In a hurry Duncan walked to the door only to find a black plastic bag with a purple sticky note attached, it read July 16, 2009 under this was his name written in capital letters. Without looking inside Duncan grabbed the black plastic bag and rushed out the door. He walked to 37th and Coleman st. the nearest subway stop and beagn his journey to work.