Monday, January 17, 2011

... as Dreaming is to Creative Writing

Last week was the first week of class, and I think my favorite class is Creative Writing.  I missed the first day due to a schedule change, but I'm just about caught up now.  My first paper assignment was to use metaphors and imagery.  Without further delay, here is that paper.

Good Morning
With a syncopated thump-thump to match my heartbeat, my footsteps down the carpeted wooden stairs of my grandmother's house set my back a-hunch with anticipation of my name being called from above. My steps are never as loud as I imagine they are, but fear of waking Dad keeps me on edge. Now, I'm standing below, with the banister-cap in hand, so soft and erotic between my finger-tips. The light from the piano room is so bright. How long have I been standing here?
    The creek-water running down the hall is frigid, so I pull my knees up, getting my feet back under the covers. They swish and slide, like the leaves being raked outside my window. Rake, rake, swish, swish, the noises I make rolling over, away from the sun, are noticeably loud.
    My knees bump against some foreign obstruction in my bed, a knot of covers, perhaps. I open my eyes to see the matter, and the mess of blonde hair and pale skin confuses me just long enough for my heart to misfire. I smile a little and tangle my cold feet among her ankles, making her squirm. The skin of her back is right in my face, magnifying her freckles to Gorbachev size. I pull the covers up to my head, and kiss her between the shoulders. Her skin is cold on my lips from exposure to the air, and salty on my tongue with the dried sweat of last night's efforts, like chilled fish at the market. My jaw is stiff from clenching all night; I can hear it pop and snap in my ears as I yawn wide.
    Breathing in from my mouth for the first time, my breath has that unique flavor of morning ick. My alarm panics at the time, screaming right behind my head, sending my back a-hunch again. Or maybe it's a-hunch for the very first time. Mornings are always so confusing.

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