Aug 242010
 

I had forgotten that they do these sorts of things in smaller towns. Why on earth would someone be at my front door at 8:30 in the freakin’ morning, on a Sunday?

As I pull on my robe, and open the door I am greeted by a middle aged woman who I believe I saw next door as I was moving in a few days ago.

“Hi! I’m your neighbor, Annie… welcome to the neighborhood!” she says as I open the door.

Reminding myself to be nice, “Thanks… I’m just beginning to get unpacked I’m Taylor.”

“What brings you to Jackson Hole?” she continues probing.

“I received an inheritance, figured I would stop working and write. Jackson Hole seemed a quite enough town so here I am.” Do you think she’s getting the hint? I like quiet!

“Oh! A writer!” Annie is excited now… ugh!

Still trying to be nice, “Not really, just something I always wanted to try. Get out of the city and try to write…”

… to participate in the writing prompt Tuesday, visit San Diego Mamma

Being an adult is like looking both ways before you cross the street and then getting hit by an airplane.

 Leave a Reply

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

(required)

%d bloggers like this: