A Half Drunk Man Talked About Writing On The Train

I was riding the subway when a half drunk man entered my car at 42nd Street. He sat down next to me and started talking in alcohol laced slur. I happened to be writing in my notebook at the time. He began talking about the book he had written about his life. I shared his story of his life in the streets. Whether it was true or not the point was that he was sharing his story. All while he swigged intermittently on a pint of vodka.

He read was I was writing. I was preparing for my internet radio show. I didn't think much of it. All the while he talked I came up with a character in my head for a future story. Ideas come in not only at strange times but places. That's the beauty of going about our daily lives as writers. There's a myriad of ideas just floating by or, in this case, sitting beside me.