Today, you have a choice of two different activities related to point of view. When I say
point of view, I mean the perspective used to tell the story. Think of the location of the
camera when filming a movie. You can tell a story from inside a particular character’s
head, showing what that character sees, thinks, and experiences.
- Option 1: Think of an argument or uncomfortable encounter you had with
another person. Tell the story of this encounter from the other person’s point of view. Or…
- Option 2: Rewrite a story you have written previously, but write it from the point
of view of a different character.
“Hey, man,” Troy heard Devon’s voice. It jolted him like electricity. It pulled him from the vague nothingness that seemed to fill his time now.
“I brought you another It ain’t really a butterfly. Can’t really find them this time of year, but you know that.” He did know that, and he was surprised that Devon was still adding to his collection for him.
“It’s a luna moth. The biggest I’ve seen. I know you’ll like it.” Yes, he did like it. He didn’t have one that large in his collection at home. Well, where home used to be.
He watched Devon place the fragile little insect in the grass at his tombstone. Sometimes it was hard to hear what Devon said, but tonight he had no trouble. He heard the hurt and the fear as loudly as the words. It never got easier. It actually got worse.
For some reason he thought the pain stopped once you died. He was wrong. He felt the dull ache where his chest would have been and the tight squeeze where his throat would have been, he just didn’t have the luxury of having a body to cry with. Devon could cry.
In the beginning he used to try to reach out and touch Devon, but now he knew that that was impossible, it just mad the boy shiver like an arctic wind had blown through even in the middle of summer. Devon was the only one that ever came to his grave any more. His sister had come a coupe times right after it happened, but he could see her heart change. At first she too wept and seemed sad, but slowly she became colder and more distant until it was clear she was only coming out of a sense of obligation. She stopped soon after. His parents did not even make the obligatory visits. They had cried at the funeral, made their show and gone home. Even today, exactly one year later they did not come.
The sun was setting, fall was almost here. He wondered how long it would be before Devon quit coming to see him too. What would happen then? Would he fade away into nothing, lose his grip in this spot and fall into the sky like a kite that has lost its string? He didn’t want to find out just yet.