Assignment 3: Post Here!

[Tamur]

This is for the posting of finished writing based on the Mead Hall Writers' Society writing group Lesson 3.

[Tamur]

The usual reminder here -- deadline for submissions is midnight GMT tonight!

[Timsup2nothin]

The bathroom is small, ordinary. The countertop is littered with middle class clutter, scattered make-up, an inexpensive perfume. His things, a toothbrush, a razor, hold a small corner. The wide mirrored cabinet has three compartments. One door hangs open slightly, the magnetic latch waiting for repairs.

On top of the medicine cabinet, out of sight, is a layer of dust, and the corners of the floor are grimy. These things wouldn't be tolerated in the guest bathroom, but here they flourish in privacy. The room is kept lived in clean, not ready for inspection.

The side of the bathtub is a white porcelain wall. Above it towers frosted glass. The glass is marred by a dried spray of vomit. Streaks run down to the track where the door slides, but don't extend onto the tub. No doubt the track is filled with a gross ooze.

Light glares on mirrors and shining white. It sizzles from the polished frame of the shower doors to fall like incendiary sleet. The switch is far away. He closes the one eye that isn't already crusted shut. The press of the tile floor is reassuringly cool.

~finis~



It is a master bathroom in a simple tract house, functional but certainly not grand. A sliding pocket door saves the space a swinging door would demand, giving an illusion of size. The sink consumes too much of the counter, forcing the cosmetic army of a woman to jostle for standing room.

The closed lid of the toilet is cold on bare feet. The edge of the counter is a hard line, an uncomfortable perch. The lights are off. Over the shower doors the bathroom window is visible.

Bottles stand clustered on the high windowsill, a small cityscape in silhouette. Condensation on the glass is their overcast sky, lit by the early morning outside.

Light seeps through the window and falls, joining the torrent of the shower in an alchemist's brew of liquid gold. The cascade is an illuminating caress. Her beauty shines through the shower door's veil of frosted glass, lighting his heart.

~finis~

[Tamur]

Offline participant

1.

The shed smelled like a garden shed: musty lawn clippings, the tang of oil, the deep vitality of earth, leather gloves. It was a large shed, long used and kept up well, cluttered in an organised way. The smoothed flagstones and stained rock walls testified that someone long ago had wanted to plant themselves on this ground just as deeply as the lindens clustered thickly about the yard. Sitting in the doorway, legs folded under him, the man scraped away at an old trowel with a file while the birds twittered and swooped overhead, and while the sunlight danced through the grass. He took a deep breath through his nose. No matter how beautiful the garden became, he would never come out here without that smell to draw him onward.

2.

The vines were so thick with greenery that one hardly noticed the fence they hung on. Young leaves sprouted every which way. Clusters of small grapes were already beginning to dip their stalks downward. The sun travelled high overhead, warming gently, beating down on the leaves like the soft rain that had fallen the night before. The dark earth between the rows sat quiet and smooth, sharp contrast to the chaos of green growing from it. The distant hills seemed so far away, blue and purple in the humid haze of an early spring.


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This was very challenging. The first one I cheated a little and simply restated my chosen "theme" detail at the end. The second one, I did not want to cheat like that, and had a much more difficult go. Good exercise. It is not something I think of naturally.

[Tamur]

Closing thread, comments will be up tomorrow if all goes well.

[Tamur]

Obviously all did not go well... posting currently.