When a story flows.

i first think of a person, place or event. Lets go with Charlie. What is Charlie doing or where is he.
Is charlie male of female? That is how I begin. and then it just flows from there.

Charlie sat in his car as he waited for the bridge to lock into place. He was so used to this same rutine now that he didn't think about it anymore. He looked and waved to the man in the car next to him on the right, smiling just like everyday. Slowly the cars in front of him began to inch forward, Charlie followed suit. His life had gotten so predictable and dull, he day dreamed of adventure and excitement as he keep his place in the slow moving parade of sad lonely drones. Each knowing their place and job like worker bees supporting the hive. A low distant buzzing from behind drew his complacent glazed eyes away from the dull normal faces around him. Turning his head to the sound Charlie's eyes widened as the roar got closer and the crome caught the sliver of sun as it cut it's way through the thick gray clouds over head. The glint of the mettle pirced his eye's forcing him to blink for just a second. Openning them again quickly not wanting to miss even a little bit of what was taking place, unlatching his seat belt Charlie leaned over the passenger seat of his plain dull gray car. Grasping the handle he twisted despreatly rolling down the stuck dusty window. The overpowering hunger he felt for something different was like that of a drug addicted man seaching for his next fix.

There that's the first part of a story. what will come next?