Writing Story Openings Over a Cuppa
Nobody in the village remembered when the Pipe People first appeared.
They simply arrived one autumn morning, standing silently beside the old logging road, assembled from rusted valves, broken horns, and forgotten machinery. Children waved. Adults laughed. Travelers stopped to take photographs before driving on.
Only Edith refused to look at them.
She kept her curtains closed, even on bright afternoons, because she knew what everyone else had forgotten.
The Pipe People weren’t sculptures.
They were witnesses.
Every few years, after the first heavy rain of October, one of their metal heads would turn ever so slightly toward the forest. By sunrise, someone would be missing.
This morning, Edith heard the familiar groan of rust twisting against rust.
When she looked out the window, every Pipe Person was facing her house.
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
My new album “Beneath The Northern Star ” is coming out July 2026 You can pre-save the songs on your streaming platforms here:
🌙 Beneath the Northern Stars – My New Album
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