Other [A small collection of the weekly coursework for my creative writing course]

[Willow Tree]

I took a creative writing course this semester! Produced a few pieces I'm proud of, so I'm just going to post them all here to keep track of!

Week 1: Themes: Personification / observation

1. The water of the bright blue stream held its misty breath in anticipation
The crisp air froze as it wondered whether the event they waited for would be pleasing or detrimental
Until the tree's let out a sigh, their green children dancing in the wind.

2. Birds chirping as feathers floated down to the well-kept grass. The quiet huffs of a lone woman jogging along as the sun painted her shadow onto the concrete, her tennis shoes thundering against it as she continued on her way. The buzzing of machinary echoed in the air as it painted the smell of freshly-mown grass in the area. The leash in my hands tugged and I turned around to see white and brown fur settling on the grass, furry tail tucked down as the canine refused to approach the workers out of skittish fear for the humming grass cutters. With a sigh, I am forced to turn around and follow my companion, elated to not have to face his fears on this day. A stray bug drifts too close as it gets nipped at in the air, terrifying it much like the grass eaters had the dog. A stray windchime barely sung to the air as I passed it, to which my dog completely ignored as he dug his nose between the blades of grass that had yet to be cut.

 

[Willow Tree]

Week 2:
"Tension in Tone and Subject-Matter.: Try writing a funny poem or a paragraph about one of the following: death, sickness, war, religion, sex, birth.

It's not every day you see a man haunched over in a dark, black coat. The weather was way to hot for that - I figure he's quite sweaty underneath it. I couldn't imagine anyone being cold in todays weather. I watched as he just stood there, staring off into the abyss. Perhaps he worked himself half to death? It wouldn't be a surprise in todays world. I was on my way back from an exhausting day at work myself. Where might he work? His coat was fancy, so perhaps at some office? Likely wasn't a CEO or anything terribly high, he was too tired for that. But even though we're killing ourselves, work goes on and we have to earn that paycheck right? I let out a small chuckle as the light on the crosswalk turned. I didn't hesitate in moving. Every step was closer to home and every centimeter closer to my bed. I continued to watch the funny man, who made no attempt to move. Was he sleeping while standing? Yet he was tapping his foot impatiently. If not for the fact that he was directly facing the crosswalk I would assume he was waiting to go the other way. How juicy would it be for him to be waiting for a lover of some kind? Maybe he had a surprise planned for his lucky one and was eagarly waiting for them to arrive. Or maybe not. Maybe they had been fighting? It was hard to judge his expression, there was little emotion to it.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped to mine and I couldn't look away even as a car horn blew in my ear. Had he been waiting for me? I had always expected work to kill me, but I suppose that taxi cab was someones work.

 

[Willow Tree]

Week 3:
"The Same Place Twice," asks you to consider both characterization and setting

The dress was stuffy. I hated the way this one was made. Mother fell in love with the design and to be honest so did I. But no dress was worth being this uncomfortable. I had been stuck in the emerald fabric for most of the morning but it hadn't gotten any easier to wear. It was just a simple ball, but mother had insisted that my hair and face be perfect. I didn't mind that, in fact I quite enjoyed balls. It was a fun time socializing and seeing the dresses. This particular ball was being held at Count Winfred Crowle's estate. I enjoyed the tall ceilings and intricate windows, although sometimes the walls just looked guady. It didn't help that the Crowle's son Francis would try to approach me. I had managed to avoid him thus far as I chatted with some of my friends, although he was always pushing to spend time with me and I had tried to make it clear enough that neither I nor my family was interested. He took the fun out of dancing. Twirling in his arms felt more like a cage. He wore cologne that clashed terribly with the perfume of all the ladies, which actually smelled wonderful. Like jasmine and lavender. I had overheard some of the ladies complimenting the garden when my family and I entered - I wondered how it looked?

The music was too loud. The lights hanging from the ceiling were bright and decorated with crystals, painting the floor with a crystalized pattern in some parts. The effects it had on the light was the only part of Count Crowle's ceilings I enjoyed. Woman smirked in groups as they picked at each others dresses and how much money it had taken to buy them. Society seemingly forbid any woman from wearing the same dress twice. I always thought it was worthless, but my father had at least attempted to force the idea that you could tell a womans worth by how she dressed and held herself. Really, it was deciding how much money she would pull from my pockets for each new outfit. I had been asked to dance many times, but I was much more fond of obserivng the bright white walls of the room which was contrasted by the gold designs accenting the surface. It was borderline guady, but it still looked nice. Perhaps I would be able to slip away and view the twinkling sky while no one noticed. I might be able to escape the overpowering smell of perfume that overpowered the room. I would much rather explore the gardens and smell actual flowers, although the perfumes never seem to give anyone else the aching pain in my head.

 

[Willow Tree]

Week 4:
Point of View & spatial Distance

Sirens blared throughout the town, although they were too far away to see their lights through the smoke. Rubbel littered the ground, although from which building was hard to tell. Citizens ran about in a panicked state, trying to get to an area they deamed 'safe'. A soft orange glow eminated from one of the buildings, a couple of floors below where the explosion had occured and flickered in the night. The thick, black smoke was hard to see, but it covered the stars and the smell hovered in the air.

"Are you happy now?"

"Will I ever be?" Blaire laughed, her red hair frazzled as she stared at the hole in the wall and the small flames flickering up from the lower floor. Her own work. They deserved it, she thought.

"I'm not going to let you do anything else."

"Sure, sure, and I guess I'm the villain here?" She turned to look at her rival with a smirk before apporoaching her, knowing the 'hero' wouldn't attack just yet. This was their usual routine - Amira would try to 'talk her down' and Blaire would have fun with it. What else was she supposed to do?

"You've gone too far!" She snapped.

"No, they wen't too far..." Blaire sighed. It was mildly annoying for her actions to be endlessly called into question like this, meanwhile the CEO she was targetting was going to get off scott free. Just missing two of his most important offices. "Hun, would you say villains are born?"

"Well what else am I supposed to say?" Amira replied quickly. She seemed to be getting tired of her antics, which was fine. Blaire was tired of being here. The young woman leaned in close, smirk reappearing on her face.

"Well, sis, they're made. I wonder who made me?"

 

[Willow Tree]

Week 5:
Magic realism

In life, there are many basic rules and foundations that form the core of our world. Gravity will pull you down. a2 + b2 = c2. Money won't make you happy, but it sure does help to have it. Yet this might somehow shake the stability of all of those rules.

The light, desaturated blue walls of my room had fairy lights hung around them as well as polaroids. The large desk in my corner had scattered notebooks and textbooks. Some chemistry, astronomy, even some art fundamental books. The various soft, plushies that decorated my bed grouped together in a huddle, with the blanket I had wrapped around them as a joke. But my fairy lights weren't on. My room light wasn't on. Logically, I shouldn't have been able to see a thing in my room but floating just above my hand was a small ball of light. It had come to life from a small paper which had shriveled up and ignited into white light after I drew the symbol. I had been seeing it in my dreams, in fact I was tired of it being everywhere and had drawn it in a last-ditch attempt to get it from my mind. But how do you explain that you can make light from a simple paper, without setting it on fire? It went against the very laws of nature and yet here I was. Were there more symbols? Science or magic, whatever one might call it, was there more that us humans could manipulate from the world around us? Did... did we even deserve it? A person could do much damage by drawing a mere shape, but how many more would it help?

I wasn't going to sleep now, there were questions to be answered. What if there were more symbols that might help reverse some of the damage we had done to these planets? At this time, I still didn't understand the grief a discovery like this might bring.

(not sure if there's a way to raise up the numbers on rpn)

 

[Willow Tree]

Week 6:
Scene development/flashback

"You'll be fine!" Wanda giggled, grinning over at my tense frame as I blankly stared ahead. She had dragged me to the front of the roller coaster. I had wanted to go on the damn ferris wheel. Was that really so hard?

"I told you I wasn't going to go on this one, but you never listen do you?" I replied through gritted teeth. I refused to look at her. She had me close my eyes and guided me through the amusement park, wanting to surprise me with a ride of her choosing. Never should have trusted her. By the time I had realized which ride we were on, it was too late.

"Well, you're here aren't you? It's too late to turn back now, we won't be able to get on any other rides before the park closes! Come on, we have to leave with a bang y'know?"

I started chewing on my lip, watching as the teen workers went down both sides to check everyone and make sure they were in correctly. When they got to us, it was just a light tug on our seatbelts and an even lighter push on the bar that was supposed to hold us in the car. They moved on to the people behind us quickly.

"I'll let ya sleep in the bed with old Winny and serve you ice cream?" Wanda poked at my arm, pushing some of her blonde hair out of her face when I let out a defeated sigh.

"You're lucky we've been friends for so long."

"Oh, ya love me! Now, the bigger question is what meal fit for queens we're gonna eat tonight! Momma's cooking!" Wanda carried on, tapping her fingers gently along the bar. Her red nails were pretty. She had a little white design painted on them, which contrasted with the dark red painted underneath and the patchy black bar.

We had started moving and Wanda continued to somewhat try to distract me. At least until the ride started and I could relax. "I did manage to nab that new movie that came out-"

"Oh my god, really?!" Wanda cut me off. She had gushed about how excited she was for the movie every day. Her favorite actors, her favorite book... It was like it was made for her.

"I just hope its at least decent. I don't want to listen to you whine for hours if not.."


"Fine, I'll just find someone else then!" She huffed, although she was unable to keep that smile off of her face.

We had reached the top of the hill. Trying to get one last rise out of me, Wanda started jiggling the bar. She started out laughing but we both fell dead silent when it moved more than it should. It never got locked in. The worker didn't test it hard enough to notice. It was too late to stop. We had reached the hill. Screaming wouldn't be loud enough.

Wanda knew I hated this ride. I went on it once when it was first built. I was only a child. Just barely tall enough, but definitely not heavy enough. Whenever I think about this ride, I think about the sharp pains I felt afterwards. It had thrown me to the left, right, up, down. Everywhere. Every little bump it felt like I hit one side of the car. I hated that weightless feeling. I cried when it finally stopped and my parents couldn't get me on anything other than the ferris wheel for an hour afterwards. The bar had been the only thing to keep me in. The scenery had been a blur, but even though the ride moved so fast it felt like forever. You could almost see the tears in my eyes when the camera snapped the photo, my face twisted in very clear pain. My parents had been very careful when taking me on new rides from then on.

But I'm older now and my parents don't ride roller coasters like they used to. Both Wanda and I knew there was essentially nothing we could do. Holding the bar down wouldn't do much, but I started shoving it down as my last bits of hope left. It wasn't going to latch now.

"Hold on to the handles!" I snapped as the cars started rolling down the hill. It accellerated quickly. I squeezed my eyes as I gripped onto the handle that was fortunately on the side of the car. This one didn't go upside down. Thank god. It was hard enough to keep our legs in with each hill. My knuckles probably went white, although I couldn't see them as my stomach somehow continued to drop. Without the bar there, I continued to feel that dreaded weightless feeling although it wasn't nearly as bad as when I was a child. Every time I felt my ass hit the seat, I wondered if I was going to fall out on the next hill. What would have happened if I hadn't pulled the seatbelt so tight?

And then the car stopped. I couldn't breathe. Tears streamed down my face and even though it felt my lungs weren't working. I continued to frantically attempt to breathe in and out as Wanda repeatedly cried "I'm sorry" beside me. I couldn't hear her or the attendants that had seen the raised bar as the cars slowed on the tracks.

 

[Willow Tree]

Week 7:
Free indirect style/short story

Lindsey stared at her reflection in the dark, cold room. The blue tones that covered her furniture and walls only seemed to suck the warmth out of the room. Or at least, thats how she felt about it. The young woman brushed some hair out of her face. She always felt it was annoying to style. Thick enough to make it annoying to put it up, curl, or straighten it, but still somehow visibly thin.

------

The street was empty. People had long learned to stay off the streets, especially in this part of town. Marley sometimes liked to watch the quiet neighborhood on this night every year. His mother hated it. The first few times he had done it, he had come back inside to her sobbing. It made him feel bad, but he couldn't stop himself. He had given up his fear of being found by the cullers years ago. Maybe his mom did too, because all she did now was give out a defeated sigh and shake her head when she saw him opening the window. He was lucky that his family had been able to afford a house in this neighborhood, one where the cullers barely came. He had heard them a few times and slipped back into his home with ease. All the lights were out which further deterred them. Although, whether it was because it was a nicer neighborhood or not was debatable. The cullers claimed they didn't target the impoverished.

"What are you doing?" A girls voice suddenly rang out in the silence. She spoke barely above a whisper, but in the dead silence of the night it might've been more like a yell. Marley let out a quiet chuckle.

"As long as we're quiet, they never come to these parts. You don't ever get to see the lights like this," He sighed, laying back on the roof. It was his favorite night to stargaze. Without light, the stars hidden behind their pollution were easy to spot. The meteor shower at the end of the week was the brightest one of the year, yet no one ever saw because of the culling week. He had missed it last year due to another close call.

Before the girl could respond, both of them heard the distant equipment of the cullers. Marley put a finger to his lips, silently shushing the stranger before climbing back inside. They had come earlier in the week this year. The culling had only just begun, usually if they came through the neighborhood it was the last couple of days. The boy locked his window and went to go find his mother.