Sometimes I feel like I'm the figment of someone else's twisted imagination.
It explains a lot, doesn't it? ;)To expand a bit more on my initial post, there's a guy I see usually a few times a week on my way to work. He's interesting looking: tall and lean, has a kinda scruffy looking jean jacket, long hair drawn back in a pony tail, always has a cigarette going. He must walk to work at about the same time I'm on my way, because he often gets to a particular crosswalk just as I go by. He caught my eye awhile back, and landed in my (as yet unfinished) 2011 NaNoWriMo novel.
The same thing happened to me with a woman in the supermarket who ended up in my 2010 NaNoWriMo. She turned out to be a major character, too.Is the tweet the 21st century haiku?
Did you invent the type tweet? Even if not, it's still awesome.I think strangers exist only to people our fiction. Why else would they be there?!
I *think* I invented the Type Tweet, but you know how that goes. Usually it turns out someone else came up with it earlier and better.Today the wizard was wearing a dark blue hoodie instead of his usual jean jacket. I may have to have a word with him about proper fashion for eccentric wizards. On the other hand, I suppose the hoodie could be seen as an abbreviated form of the traditional hooded cloak, more suitable for wear with jeans.
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