July 12, 2012

  • the swamps of home

    I was asked recently to identify the proudest piece of writing I've ever produced. Junior year of high school, my AP Lit class did a warmup exercise: we each pulled a random item from a bucket and were given five minutes to write anything we wanted. You could use the object as inspiration, or you could ignore it. My artifact was a Lord of the Rings movie stub, and in five minutes, I managed to capture something I've yet to repeat. It's a bit juvenile, and occasionally uses awkward phrasing, but it's me, plain and simple. Enjoy.

    "One boy. One girl. Both aged at fifteen years, together for two months, three weeks, four days. She is calm, a little scarlet from the brisk winter air. She gently leans on his warm side, as his hand reaches twenty dollars into the ticket booth. She lightly teases him about his obsession for the broad landscapes of Mordor, but makes it all better with a light brush across the lips, spreading her warmth. 

    Directly behind them stand two more people. One boy. One girl. Both aged at seventy-three years, together for fifty-two years, nine months and one day. She stands to his left, gently stroking his back and remembering him so long ago, when this movie first appeared, in the form of a novel. Smiling lightly at the youthful innocence in line before them, she takes his hand and follows one generation into theatre eight, to mix with the world and all those who share her partner’s love. Perhaps, she wonders, as her eyes find the young couple once more, this will be worth it after all."