View From the Top

As a kid, I had an obsessive relationship with tall things.  Any time I saw a tall parking garage or tower, I imagined myself at the top of it.  I wanted to go into space and view Earth from above.  I wanted to fly planes.  I dreamed of what my world would look like from that altered perspective.  Although I didn't get the chance to do some of these things, I relentlessly dreamed of them from the garage roof.  During the summer, my dad and I would climb onto the roof and stargaze.  During the day, when the ladder was still left leaning against the garage, I scaled it's wooden rungs and ascended to a new world, notebook in hand.  I loved watching cars go by.  I looked at the treetops, and watched my parents move about the yard.  I loved climbing trees and seeing what the world looked like when no one knew I was there.

Sounds a bit voyeuristic, I know, but I just loved seeing people like they were characters inside a story.  I was the narrator.  Walking through stores, I saw so many people, and though I didn't know them, I write their back story in my head.  Seeing emotion in their faces, I imagined reasons behind those feelings.  I decided what they would do next.  Though they were clearly people over whom I had no control, it was a good way to flex my creative muscles.  It's research into the way people behave.

I still do these things every day.  So if you ever see a stranger staring at you for no discernible reason, they may be creeps you should avoid, but they also may not be.  Perhaps they're just budding writers, trying to figure you out, trying to see how you and your coy smile or brooding temperament fit into the world.  I try not to stare, because it is rude, but people watching is by far one of the more fascinating hobbies a person can have.

I am the narrator, and this is my story.