Writing Exercise: First Dream by EvanAsh, literature
Literature
Writing Exercise: First Dream
I was four years old at the time: still small enough to ride in the shopping cart, but old enough that I really would rather be walking, like a big kid. I don't think that I complained too loudly about it, but I must have said something, because I do remember that my mother - a tall, brunette woman with a charming china doll sort of face, nothing at all like my real mother - took great care as we maneuvered between the plastic trees to explain that I had to stay in the cart, so that I would be safe. I was so small, she said, that I might not be able to keep up, and if Mommy and Daddy were too preoccupied with shopping to notice, then I might
Pencils marked by teeth:
Evidence of shameful vice
On my writing desk.
Christmas brings relief.
Kind friend supplies with stress balls.
I laugh. Fun faces!
Pencils now intact.
Dentist overjoyed. Me too.
Bad puns about balls.
Then, a dream arrives.
Committee on my doorstep.
Balls with angry faces.
Morning comes slowly.
I apologize to balls.
Pencils marked by teeth.
Why the old hag didn't just roll over and die already was completely beyond my comprehension. It wasn't for lack of my effort, I can assure you. I hardly thought of anything else for months and months years, probably, not that I've ever been very good at counting, though it isn't my fault that dogs aren't educated on this heathen planet before The Day. Zero Day, I called it. As in, finally, that witch will be a mere zero in the census count. And now that the day had arrived, all the parts of the plan were in place and my success was nearly inevitable. My liberation was at hand.
The day began ignominiously. The Birthday Girl, a
Writing Exercise: First Dream by EvanAsh, literature
Literature
Writing Exercise: First Dream
I was four years old at the time: still small enough to ride in the shopping cart, but old enough that I really would rather be walking, like a big kid. I don't think that I complained too loudly about it, but I must have said something, because I do remember that my mother - a tall, brunette woman with a charming china doll sort of face, nothing at all like my real mother - took great care as we maneuvered between the plastic trees to explain that I had to stay in the cart, so that I would be safe. I was so small, she said, that I might not be able to keep up, and if Mommy and Daddy were too preoccupied with shopping to notice, then I might
Pencils marked by teeth:
Evidence of shameful vice
On my writing desk.
Christmas brings relief.
Kind friend supplies with stress balls.
I laugh. Fun faces!
Pencils now intact.
Dentist overjoyed. Me too.
Bad puns about balls.
Then, a dream arrives.
Committee on my doorstep.
Balls with angry faces.
Morning comes slowly.
I apologize to balls.
Pencils marked by teeth.
Current Residence: Albany, NY deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium Favourite cartoon character: Calvin Personal Quote: "Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you." - Ovid