I realized yesterday how very much I love my creative writing class. We were given an assignment, of course, and upon initial examination it didn't appear a though it would be of any significance or unadulterated enjoyment. Boy, was I wrong.
I wrote feverishly for a day and probably looked more than a little disturbed as I crouched over my laptop, typing as quickly and excitedly as my fingers could manage. All because of a simple assignment. Wow.
Yet, as trivial as it may seem, I did savor every second of that project. Don't ask me why, even I have no clue. But the story just wove itself out of the twisted mesh of suppressed creativity that entangles my mind. And methinks it actually turned out fairly well.
That essay, which was supposed to involve a real person I'm familiar with in a scene I create, ended up being much longer than intended, but I think that's for the best. Here's the first few lines, just to give you an idea of what I'm talking about:
...
Melana slowly drifted back from her deep slumber. A cool breeze caressed her skin and blew curly wisps of her long brown hair across her face. With a wistful smile and a content sigh, she opened her eyes and beheld the golden horizon of yet another beautiful morning. She turned and dangled her legs off the high oak limb, her fingers gingerly tracing the grooves and lines of the rough bark. Her smile broadened as she inhaled the crisp, moist scent of the dew-covered grasses below.
...
This is based on my friend (whose name I changed in the essay for the purpose of anonymity) who, as she says, has "a thing for sensing energies." That's cool, I respect that, and it was what inspired this story.
Fare thee well, readers. I look forward to our next exchange. And, again, feel free to comment as you wish. Huzzah!
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