An animal’s perspective.
In the opening passage of “Raccoon”, by Cam Terwillliger, notice how the story of a woman is told from the perspective of the raccoon living in the attic above her kitchen:
The raccoon hears her in the kitchen below, a clatter of metal on metal signaling that the woman has removed her baking pans yet again. Whenever he hears this from his lair in the attic, the raccoon moves beside the antique bird cage and its film of old dust, directly over the sound. The air that rises from the floorboards here is warm and laced with the yeasty smell of swollen dough, the tang of lemon, the richness of chocolate. When he first took up residence in this little ranch house a few weeks ago, the woman used to bake and sing along with music, the stereo booming show tunes from
The King and I,
Carousel, creating a mix of song and scent that the raccoon found soothing on these bitter winter days. But that is all over. Now the woman bakes in the penumbra of silence, with only the prattling of an electric mixer and the furious clanking of ceramic bowls. Sometimes the phone rings. She never answers.
This week, dear writers, write a 1-2 paragraph story opening, telling a human’s tale from an animal’s perspective. AscendingSeraph shows us the way, with this brilliant beginning