Hidden Talents...

Several days ago I posted a photo of our street draped in a thick fog, a fog so thick almost everything disappeared into the black.

It was beautiful.

Beautiful, that is, if you don't have to drive or go anywhere, which I didn't.

I snapped a few pictures, chose the best one, and posted it.

Since I post a picture every day, people sometimes respond, but most don't. I'm fine with people not commenting or "liking" the photos. I leave many photos and posts I see uncommented and unliked, but I do appreciate (most of...) what they contribute.

A few days after I posted the photo, a friend and former co-worker commented on my photo. I'm glad he did. He wrote a few lines of beautiful prose. I'm including them here.

As I quietly walked the street, there was an object on the ground close to a stop sign. I couldn't make it out. Then, I noticed a light far in the distance that I had not noticed before. Was it another street light? Was it a porch light above someone's back door? Or, was it headlights from a car speeding towards the corner where I stood? I stopped to ponder. It was then I heard a woman's scream and footsteps rapidly pounding the pavement behind me. . . (My contribution to your story, Scott.)

I've known this friend for more than a decade. We worked together--in adjoining cubicles--for many of those years. His words were an inspiration for me. I love what he wrote. In fact, an entire novel, or a series of novels could evolve from that lone paragraph.

Hidden talents...