What is Her Story?

As a writer I believe that everyone and everything has a story. The homeless man in the alley, the worn and scratched alter, even the faded curtains hanging in a kitchen have a story to tell. What theses stories are exactly we may never know. The homeless man may tell you his, you may have seen some of the events that took place at the alter, or you may have been there when those curtains were first purchased, but it's impossible for us to know the story behind everything and everyone. As a writer, though, I like to try.

When I'm at a cemetery, I look at all those tombstones and wonder who the people buried there were. I wonder where they lived, what they did for a living, who they loved, who loved them, and how they saw the world. Sometimes I wonder about the state of their souls.

There's an alter in a church, in the town I spent most my life in, that has so many scars that I always wondered how it got them. Were they from someone's keys? A coin biting into it's surface? Did a lady with freshly manicured nails carve into it? I'll never know all the stories behind the scars that mark the alter's surface or all the tears that have been shed on it, but I still wonder.

Wondering is one of the gifts us humans are blessed with. Imagining is another. When you combine both you can get some pretty interesting stories. People watching is one activity that can use both of theses gifts. When one people watches, or at least when I do, one wonders what each person's story is and then they attempt to figure out the person's story by creating one within their mind. This activity, or creative art, can be applied to something other than people. Like photographs.

You may be wondering where I'm going with this. Well, I'm about to tell you.

A few days ago I stumbled upon a picture that caught my eye instantly. Something about the photo had me wondering right away. I started asking myself what's happening in this picture, and then soon changed to asking, who is the woman in this picture? What is she doing? Where is she going? Why do I feel like there's an internal sadness to her?

I begun writing a story about this photo and it took on a life of it's own. What I meant to be a short story has now shown potential to be something more. It has found it's way to my writings-that-I'm-currently-working-on list.

This is the photo that started my most recent story:

After beginning to form my own story about the above picture, I began asking people around me this simple question: Who is she?  These are some of the answers I received

~She's at a monastery, seeking forgiveness.

~She's like Van Hellsing. 

~She lives in a place where only black clothing is allowed and doesn't like it. So she's rebelling by wearing red. 

~She's running from something.

Now, my question to you is the same as to them. I want to encourage you to look deeper into the photo. Look at her, at those around her, at the color of her attire compared to the others', and ask yourself who is she?