[This week’s challenge from The Daily Post is to identify “three original details from encounters during your day or your week,” then write a paragraph using those details. I’ll deviate from the assignment by not constraining myself to a paragraph.]
“We need three more volunteers from our audience!” announced Maude (who spelled her name Maud but pronounced it as Maude). Now that the music had stopped, Claude (whose name really was Claude, although Maude called him Fraud) had stopped dancing, while Fraud (who Maude called Claude despite the objections of Claude) stood waiting for the next thing to happen.
A man in the audience raised his hand. His thin black hair was parted from the right side of his head to the left, and Fraud saw a beam of light shining against the slim line of the man’s exposed scalp, an island in a sea of hair. “You sir!” Maude called to the man, who stepped forward from the crowd. “And what is your name?”
“Please call me Shelly,” said the man as he walked forward, the line on his scalp seeming to widen as he approached Fraud.
“I’ll volunteer,” came a teenaged girl’s voice from the audience. She had a loop of metal, a ring, attached through her left nostril. Her hair extended from her head in spikes, Fraud imagining that it looked like a medieval weapon. “You can call me Sherry,” the girl said as she stepped forward.
“And how about you, sir?” Maude pointed to the elderly man she was speaking to. The man’s white hair was tossled in curls, looking to Fraud like a hastily decorated cake. “Will you participate in our spontaneous creation of the mind?”
The elderly man shook his head. “Yes I will,” he said, and walked into the center of the circle formed by the audience that had gathered around Maude, Claude, Fraud, Shelly, and Sherry in the parking lot of the bank that was still not open.
Claude sighed like an elementary student about to admit that he hadn’t done his homework. “And what is your name?” he asked the elderly man.
“Shevvy,” the man replied, then raised a wavering hand high in the air. “Not Chevy, Shevvy. I am not a car — ” he brought his hand down, began pointing to his chest — “I. AM. A. MAN!“