Perspectives on Perspective

For those of you who missed last night's session, or for those of you who wish to re-live it in the privacy of your own home, here's the exercise in perspective we craft-shopped. The idea is to re-write the (admittedly kind of silly) selection from a different narrative perspective. The only restriction is that you adhere to the scenario established. The effect of the shift in point-of-view is often more dramatic than you may expect and the material you generate may very well prove useful to you in your own work.

Third Person Limited, Close

Martin went into the bank with purpose. Get in and get out. That was his aim. He needed to make a deposit, check his account balance, and then maybe inquire after the young blonde who usually worked the drive-up window. He was curious to know where she'd been, that was all. It wasn't important. He'd simply grown used to her presence and wondered after her. It would be a casual thing, his asking. He picked an old woman teller because they were easier to approach about these things and just as he was pocketing his receipts and she was thanking him for his business, he asked. The woman frowned. "Do you really want to know?" she said. Martin was really very busy. He'’d only allotted a minute or two in his day for this portion of the transaction and yet he found himself leaning conspiratorially into the marbled ledge of the teller window. "Yes," he said. "Of course I do. What'’s happened?" There was a flutter in the woman's face that suggested tragedy to him. He saw the young woman's body flung up and over a speeding car, he saw her mugged in the bank'’s parking lot and thrown limp into a dumpster. She had a boyfriend, he knew it, a lout. She should have left him long ago, but she was in love and it had been then end of her. If he'd met her sooner, he felt, Martin could have helped her. With the power of his love, he could have redeemed her of anything. Even heroin, maybe. At least smoking. "You're sure you want to know?" said the old woman, her hand dandying a bank pen on a metal string. "Yes," said Martin. He steadied the swing of the pen to demonstrate his seriousness. "She's out to lunch, you pervert," said the woman.