Stranger than Fiction

So I was power walking this morning, thinking about Schrodinger's Cat (I'm serious—come back tomorrow if you don't believe me). I get about ¾ of a mile from home and hear this 'crack!' or maybe it was a 'pop!' but hearing it over Greenday means it wasn't like... you know, a branch snapping or something, so I take out one head phone and listen. I hear it again. If I were a betting woman, which I'm not really—I prefer sure things-- I would have pegged it as a b-b gun or caps like my kids get for the 4th of July. I am alert though, because when I lived in Portland one morning, I actually saw someone shoot a gun—same time of morning from down the block, just like this seemed to be. That was LOUDER and I actually SAW the orange flash as it fired (I went around the block that time too).

You see BOTH TIMES I had to get PAST the spot of the action... anyway... caps seemed like teenagers, so I started up the block. I see a person—but from clear down the block, right? Then I hear yelling... okay, equation changes. I am brave enough to walk by a teen throwing caps, no matter how inappropriate at 5 a.m. I am NOT brave enough to walk into the middle of a confrontation. I turned around and went another block over.

I get up the block and see someone walking. He's banging a stick on the ground (or so it looks from a distance) and then he starts talking, so I slow down. I'm in shadow a little from the trees. I turn off my music and watch, and he goes past the street I'm on, so I keep walking. He gets maybe 20 feet up the street as I am approaching and a car comes along. He starts cracking what I now realize is a WHIP, yelling 'get out of my face!'  (sadly, nothing like THIS man)

The car (not apparently realizing this guy is INSANE) slows, but keeps coming, so the guy steps in front of the car and WHIPS IT. “Get out of my FACE!”

I scuttle quickly, but try to be as quiet and subtle as I can, across the street and HURRY up the next. The car, I see, pulls over (hopefully calling 9-1-1, because I don't HAVE a phone) and the guy back-tracks. He yells up the street I'm on, “get out of my face!” but by that point I am almost to the next block (very short blocks at this point, so I don't feel SAFE, but when I cross the next street I crest a hill, so will be out of vision, plus it's a slightly BUSIER street (though busy at 5 a.m. in Ann Arbor is relative) but I figure putting some distance and obstacles between me and this nut is a GOOD idea.

Now what would make a person behave this way? In my mind there are two answers, possibly working in conjunction. Schizophrenia or drugs. I know it's Delusional Thursday, but people who aren't ACTUALLY insane wait for a reasonable hour to begin their shenanigans. And to reassure you, I had NOT yet begun my delusions for the day.


But you know what? I did some character plotting (and wrote a prologue) last night for a story (read:  novel) I've been thinking about... and I HAVE a schizophrenic person in it... I am going to FREAKING USE the scene I just experienced! Ha! So THERE! Take that, crazy person who scared the crap out of me! You will make me famous! (okay, so maybe now the delusions have begun).

That said, y'all were RIGHT that writing would help pull me out of my funk. And the diaspora of looking at a true LUNATIC makes the nut I'm married to seem relatively harmless by comparison. HIS only delusions are the things he thinks I ought to be doing that I don't care to do. He is also behaving better though, too, so that helps.

Prologue is only 4 pages, but it feels good to have the set up going. My MC is a little chatty, which might be a challenge, as this will be my first book told from first person (she's making me). I think it will be fun to write though. I DO need to do some research on... you know... nuts... (hopefully I don't have to experience them all—not sure I want to deal with THAT, but universal forces can be strange that way).