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Characters for your story should have lives with twists and turns of...Coincidences. |
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"Coincidence" Is a Loaded Weapon (Use It Early) I’m halfway through breakfast at my favorite window seat when the restaurant’s television—normally tuned to The Price Is Right—abruptly cuts to an emergency broadcast. The sudden silence alone gets everyone’s attention. On screen, a reporter stands near City Hall, wedged awkwardly between the Mayor and the Chief of Police. Both men are drenched in sweat. Their hair looks like it lost a fight with a leaf blower. The reporter raises the mic just under the Mayor’s chin. The Mayor shouts, “Everyone should be cautious around any type of window today because—” The screen erupts. Angry birds swarm the interview, smashing into the officials, pecking at the camera. The Chief of Police panics, draws his weapon, and fires several rounds into the air. The broadcast goes black when a bird collides directly with the lens. “What in God’s name—” Glass explodes two tables in front of me. Several geese burst through the restaurant windows like they were late for a reservation. Chairs topple. People scream. I dive under my table as feathers, glass, and panic rain down. Without looking, I reach up, blindly searching for my fork. Pain. Sharp. Immediate. I yelp and yank my hand back as beaks snap at the air where my fingers used to be. Stinging pulses through my knuckles. I peek out just long enough to see wings everywhere. “Dude,” I whisper toward the exit, “I am peacing out of here.” Every table has turned into a battleground. Patrons flail at flying fowl. Waitresses drop trays mid-stride, splashing drinks across the floor. Complimentary water glasses shatter, doing absolutely nothing to help the ambience. Then the double doors behind the counter swing open. The Chef steps out in full white uniform and a tall chef’s hat. He’s holding two hatchets. “Geese!” he shouts. “Geese, geese, geese are on the menu today! Y’all about to save me some money—like I’m switching car insurance to GEICO!” The flock stops. Silence. Feathers drift down. Every beady little eye turns toward the Chef. Without another sound, the geese retreat, smashing back through the same windows they entered. I stay under the table. “Quack.” I scream and dive deeper. The Chef is standing there, grinning ear to ear. I crunch my face up and stare at him. “Dude… really?” “I handled my business,” he says proudly. “Y’all gonna be alright.” The restaurant looks like a war zone. Broken glass. Feathers. Half-eaten breakfasts abandoned mid-bite. A kid—maybe ten years old—kneels on the floor, holding feathers in his palms. He blows them gently and watches them float. “Stop that, Tommy. Let’s go.” His mom grabs his hand. Their shoes crunch loudly as they leave. Everyone cheers for the Chef. He bows. Outside, the city looks worse. Every storefront window is shattered. Cars sit stripped of glass. A man sobs on the sidewalk, clutching a laptop with a cracked screen. “I just bought this,” he says. “Lost a few bucks because of an angry duck.” Something warm splats onto his head. A flock of geese flies overhead. Coincidence didn’t solve anything in this story. It didn’t rescue anyone. It didn’t provide answers. It simply showed up early, kicked the door open, and let chaos sprint inside. That’s the power of coincidence when used correctly—not as a shortcut out of trouble, but as a catalyst into it. When you’re stuck with writer’s block, don’t look for the perfect solution. Drop an unexpected problem into a normal moment and let it escalate. Trust me—I could keep going, but Coincidentally, Denzel Washington wants me to move my car. Apparently I parked in his spot. And I’ve seen The Equalizer. My bad. |
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