She poured herself a cup of coffee…

At the present time, I’m working on five different stories. Do other writers work on this many? I get the funny feeling that I’m spreading myself a little too thin here. Yet, I can’t help it. I’m afraid to leave a story idea as just that, an idea. I’m afraid I’ll lose my train of thought on what I believe will be a good tale to tell.

In all of my stories, there’s a protagonist (main character) who drinks coffee. This is THE reason why I picked this prompt at Writing.Com.

She poured herself a cup of coffee...
Image provided by
James Cridland @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/jamescridland/

Diane drew the shade up to see what type of day it was going to be. She had learned long ago not to trust the weatherman on TV, or what the forecasts were in the newspaper or on the Internet. The only way to have any inkling of what type of weather was going to occur was to just look out the window and gaze into the western sky. According to what she saw this time, the day looked as though it might bring some moisture. Because it was autumn, that could mean either rain or snow. One thing seemed to be certain — a day for long sleeves.

After wriggling into her robe and scuffs, she moseyed to the kitchen, rubbing the sleepy out of her eyes as she went. Her routine was always the same — set up the coffee maker to start dripping the Java into the glass pot, make a quick trip outside to retrieve the morning paper and check her answering machine for messages.

Seeing that the phone had been silent during the previous evening and night, she turned her attention to the front page of the paper. Her little town currently suffered from vandalism. If it had been something like tearing down mailboxes, Diane wouldn’t think of it as a big deal, but the criminals were pulling apart power lines, putting sections of town in a frenzy because of not having electricity or natural gas. What was they’re purpose in this, she wondered.

She laid the paper on the kitchen table and got a mug out of the cupboard. She poured herself a cup of coffee, pulled out a chair and laid the newspaper out so that she could read the whole article. Sitting down, she continued to read. The delinquents seemed to be targeting only within the city limits. She took a sip of coffee and sighed. There is something good to be said about living beyond the city limits in the wilds of the county, knock on wood.

She turned her chair as she fixed her mind to what was going outside in her backyard. There were three bunnies scurrying around in the dry grass, stopping once in a while to nibble on some of the longer blades. The mother sat at the edge of the thicket beyond Diane’s property, keeping a watchful eye on her babies. A crow flew overhead. The mother rabbit stomped her back foot and her children went scampering toward her.

As she sipped her hot coffee, she contemplated what she wanted to get done today. There was the laundry, bills to paid and get into the mail, and that copy write assignment she needed to complete. There wasn’t a lot on her agenda, just enough to keep her busy.

That was enough of the lollygagging around. It was time to get to the business of the day.

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16 Replies to “She poured herself a cup of coffee…”

    1. Yes, most definitely. I am a true coffee-holic. There’s no doubt about it. As I stated, all of my writing projects have the main character as one also, my personal contribution to my stories. 😀

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  1. It’s kinda funny, Glynis, that once you start collecting a good chunk of writing, you find you’ve oftentimes bled all over your characters. Sometimes I think it can be extremely revealing to write fiction as our psyche is bound to display so much about ourselves and one has to purposefully be careful – if it becomes important to you – to watch the details of our writing lest we continue to write version after version of ourselves. I still do it. It’s an exercise I struggle with enormously–writing from the point of view of someone who isn’t even remotely similar to me.
    And that gorgeous cup of joe you’ve got posted is seriously doing a number on my desire to pop into the car and head to the coffee shop. Yum.

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    1. You know, after reading your comment, I have to agree with you. I even purposely make all protagonists female because I feel I have the right to get into their heads. Maybe I should try a male one and start with one resembling someone I know well.

      Thanks for the pondering. 😀

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  2. I blow on another mug of coffee as I read and write this, Glynis. Whew, five at a time, you say. I’m jealous. I can’t juggle that many because then none of the stories would get finished. Start, yes and maybe but to finish, I have to concentrate on each, one at a time. Sigh.

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    1. Tess, although I have 5 stories started, there’s only 2 that I am currently working on. Oddly enough, neither is the one you’ve looked at. That one is now sitting on the back burner. 😛

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  3. Drinking coffee is a universal action many people can relate to in one way or another. It conjures so many sensory aspects. Even if someone doesn’t drink coffee, they can still relate to the feel of the hot mug, etc. I tend to work on too many things at once, hence one more reason novel number one is taking me forever. I’m gradually getting better about that. When it comes to short pieces, it can often make perfect sense to jump back and forth between various ones.

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    1. As I wrote to Tess, I’m start 5 but I’m not really working on 3 of them. I look at them and end up rewriting parts of what I’ve already done. Not progressive at all. Now, the two I really am working on depends on my mood. One is about part of a person’s life. I imagine it as a book that a reader ponders on. The other one is a murder mystery.

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