Good question. I am not much of a wilderness/unknown places type. I like the comforts of home! I guess the unimaginative answer would be that I'd go to the authorities for help. Seems like someone there could point me in the right direction! But that's boring, so here's what I'd really do:
After waking up in the ladies room of what seems to be a bus station, I am struck by the fact that I can't even remember who I am. I have no money, I conclude after checking out the pockets of my blue jeans. I'm wearing a green t-shirt and walking shoes. They look like a nice pair of shoes, but my clothing gives me no direction in learning who or where I am. I step outside of my resting place to find myself in, yes, a bus station. I have a headache. I reach up to feel my head, and find that at some point I have been hurt. I don't know if I fell or have been hit, but my temple is bruised and there is dried blood on my face.
My first instinct is to curl up into the fetal position and cry, but that won't get me any breakfast, and I am hungry. I wonder, should I stand in the bus station, put out a paper cup for donations, and sing? It's about the only marketable talent I have in my present situation. I begin to sing a selection of favorite hymns which for some reason I remember, although I can't remember much else. A few kind people throw some change in my cup - it's not much, but it will get me a diet coke and some toast. Now to find a diner...
Walking out of the bus station I find myself in a teeming metropolis - There must be a diner or a Mickey D's with a dollar menu where I can get a cheap sanwich. Walking up the street I notice a police station - maybe i should go in for help. Maybe not - I really don't know who I am or what trouble a former choir girl like me could be in, but better to figure this out for myself.
I spend the day looking for more ways to make a little money... I sweep a storefront for a dollar, and wash some windows on the fly - my other marketable talent seems to be cleaning. Go figure.
I walk until I am in a section of town where it doesn't matter if anyone knows your name - With my few measly dollars I fing another fast food joint to eat in, then it's time to find a place to sleep. I'm not going going back tho the bus station! I have seen a Y on my travels, but I don't want too many questions raised, so I opt for a shelter I come across. A free nights stay and a hot breakfast... what more could I want?
My night's sleep is dismal, as the bed is itchy (bugs? I hope not) and the company is dubious at best. I sleep with my sneakers as my pillow and one eye open. I wake to the sound of rain pounding on the roof. As I get up and wander down for breakfast I wish for a toothbrush... among lots of other things.
I am suddenly hit over the head with what feels like a baseball bat and am knocked out, only to wake up and realize that I am a stay at home mom from suburbia that has been separated from my church tour group by who knows what? At least I remember who I am... now's the time to head for the police station!
________________________________________
OK, so I'll never be a screenwriter for USA Network's Burn Notice, but give me a break! I am a survivor! If you want a better version, check out how Michael Weston, a CIA Operative on USA Network's new TV series, Burn Notice, does it! The show starts up on June 28! Check out http://www.usanetwork.com/series/burnnotice for more information on that!
Direct your readers to to learn how he survives.
0 comments:
Post a Comment