"Across the Street from the Good Life" was inspired by a monthlong visit to San Francisco a year or two ago. We were staying in Potrero Hill, a cute neighborhood with mostly two or three story houses. It has a little downtown with some shops and a handful of restaurants and fairly easy parking. The little business strip had most things we could want: restaurants serving French, Peruvian, and Cajun food, sourdough crust pizza, a coffee house, a bookstore, and a grocery store called The Good Life. 

The Good Life was a great little store, with top-quality food--including bread from a favorite local bakery, meat, fish, produce, and fresh flowers that actually looked fresh. It was so much more pleasant than driving to the crowded, dismal Safeway.  However, the grocery was a little pricey. My brother, who lives in Potrero Hill, said of a friend of his: "He lives across the street from the Good Life, but he can't afford to shop there."

Well, the phrase about living "across the street from the good life" just seemed like it had to be a story.  That the good life was right there, visible but unattainable.

From Potrero Hill we also had a good view of the downtown skyscrapers, which seemed close but were a pain to drive to--also a bit unattainable.

The characters and situations of the story are all imaginary. Also, the prices in the Good Life; by the time I wrote the story, I was back home and had to make all the details up. I feel a little bit bad about potentially maligning a great neighborhood grocery store. I can only claim creative license. 

Many thanks for the Euonia Review for offering my story a home. 

My story "Let's Say," like a few other recent stories, started from a prompt. The prompt was a simple one: to start the story with "Let's say...." It's not so different from a prompt I used to use with my students, to start with "I remember" when they were working on personal essays. 

I used a similar technique in my story "When," from a few years ago. I just started the first line with "When..." and kept going. 

Some people think of these kinds of stories as gimmicky, but I don't. I think of it more as an organizing principle.

And of course, a story that start's with "Let's say" can end up anywhere. In my case, for some reason I thought of my neighbors down the hill who have a very nice yard with a pool and firepits and enjoy entertaining. On hot nights when my windows are open, I can hear the parties. The idea of parties you can see or hear but can't attend interests me--probably dating back to my first reading of The Great Gatsby in high school. Other people's parties have an allure, because you can imagine all sorts of fun and drama going on at them. 

I did imagine some drama, and the result is "Let's Say."

Thanks for the Eunoia Review for publishing the story, and for writer Meg Pokrass for the prompt.