The Peril in a Bland Situation

The story of my life will never qualify as commercial fiction. It has none of the required elements— horror, fantasy, or thriller. Rather than vampires or zombies, my friends are ordinary people. My past is not checkered, more of a plaid flannel. No high-stakes risks for me. Most of my journeys go inward, not around the world. A great story has tension on every page and lots of conflict. I avoid drama. In bestsellers, formidable antagonists stand in the way of success. As luck would have it, my life has worked out almost according to plan. 

I lead more of a literary non-fiction life, bland situations with beautiful sunsets. An inciting incident for me involves a porcupine, a snapping turtle, or a woman squeezing a tomato. My storylines feature emotion rather than motive, people rather than peril, and wisdom not cataclysm. 

It would be a stretch to create upmarket fiction from my experiences. 

 Just for fun, I will try. 

On a stunning September day, the protagonist (yours truly) sets out to visit Kingston, Ontario with two sidekicks, Joann and Ginnie. Using Apple’s Siri to direct us, we drive into the city. Where to park? Ginnie points the way to a parking garage. We ignore the yellow caution tape and risk entry. We find ourselves in the eerie world of a dingy, spiral labyrinth. 

We drive around and around, ever upward, finding no apparent parking spaces or exit ramps. The clamorous rata-tat-tat of invisible jackhammers batter the foundation. The din drowns our voices. Pulverized concrete hangs in the stale air and shrouds the passage. Particles cling to the windshield and seep into the car. The chalky powder assaults our nostrils. Our mouths go dry. We share uneasy glances as vibrations rattle the vehicle.  

Continue— or exit the car and run? But where? Stained plywood blocks the stairwell exits. My heart races. We brace for a building collapse. Siri’s clear assertive voice commands, Proceed to the roof!

I steer around a final curve. We emerge into the sun, park the car, and scamper down the staircase to solid ground. 

My world is not as mundane as I thought. But I’m guessing this does not have series potential.