Supporting Cast (Static):
Second Lifers may understand this character type better than others since we deal with inanimate objects seeming to be alive all the time. Take a moment to picture the big scary house in the movie Psycho. Or Hogwartz. Maybe the Death Star in Star Wars. Blood on Lady Macbeth. Or maybe Little Stinky the INKsters bear. Sometimes things grow in importance to the point of being characters themselves. What stuff in your protagonist's life is so important it becomes a character in itself. Describe those things and explain why they are important.
Bearly Art
She'd been painting all day when the forest ranger came waltzing by and ...
Arrogance
Retell your favorite trip abroad story. Who is the most arrogant person you know? How are you surviving in the modern economy?
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Barely Art by Wolfgang Glinka
She had only just started to paint when the park ranger turned up in his mud spattered truck.
"So what are you painting?" he asked in that way where his eyes were asking a different question.
"I paint bears," she said impressively.
For a small woman, she sure had guts, he thought.
"You should be careful ma'am! They are mean creatures and they can run like a horse."
"Oh I don't paint them here!" she laughed whilst taking a quick look around her.
He noticed her flash of fear with pleasure.
"I am doing the landscape then I reference photographs that I take at the zoo."
She noticed his flash of pleasure at her fear.
"That's cool," he said. "You don't want to be messing with grizzlies."
It was worth milking, he was not the man to miss an opportunity.
"I grew up with them" she said, rolling up her sleeves and revealing biceps of unfeminine proportions.
"My parents run the zoo."
"Right, he said, unsure of the contradictions here.
"I never see anyone out here," she said. "I've been coming here all year."
"No one really ventures this far," he answered, adding a sinister note as a garnish to his plan.
"No bears and no humans! We should be safe then!"
She was mocking him, he knew that.
"So where will you put the bear?" he asked, looking over her shoulder and getting so close that she could smell his park ranger sweat.
"Haven't decided yet" she said sizing him up out of the corner of her eye. "You never know where they are coming from after all."
"I see."
He felt a bit stupid but his eyes silently searched the undergrowth.
There was no need, he thought, bears never come out this far.
"I tell you what," she said without showing her irritation. "Would you stand in for the bear?"
It took some persuasion but she knew how do it.
Her hand at first resting on his arm, squeezed his forearm muscles whilst accidently brushing his face with her hair.
After that, he was her's.
"Just stand there..yes, in front of that clump of trees."
The ranger was now working for the painter.
"Yes there..No, over a bit further".
She had him striding backards and forwards in front of her whilst she sat at her easel adding the finishing strokes to her landscape.
When will he give up, she wondered.
It is not as if she is that attractive, he thought.
They both felt hot - it was a seeringly hot afternnoon.
It was the sort of heat that pretty well insured that the giint girisslies would have long been lost to their afternoon naps.
"Do you mind if I take off my jacket." he called.
"Go go ahead" she replied encouragingly.
Why should she mind? What could be so shocking about a man in shirtsleeves?
"Does he think I am so unable to get a sexual partner that I would get over-heated seeing him jacketless.
It was no great challenge to get him to take his shirt off , he had already decided that she was his, but it took a few more feminine wiles for the rest.
Soon there he was flushed, embarrassed and naked except for his rangers boots.
How did she do it?
Why did she do it?
Did she do it?
The world will never know.
The clothes, the painting, the easel and a small canvas chair were all that the bears did not eat.
Wolfgang Glinka
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