1) place
The woods. Early winter. Just when the lakes glaze over with a thin layer of ice. After the first snowfall, maybe. I am sitting on the fallen tree again, the one that makes a bridge from bank to bank over the still flowing river. My legs swing as freely as pendulums, boots brushing the surface of the water. My hands are freezing, I remember. So I get up to go home, but slip on a delicate patch of icy frost and remember the water being cold.
2) person
I met myself, once. Shira. My alter-ego, my alias, the name I chose for myself when playing those mindless childhood games. Her name was Shira — her real name. My jaw dropped when she said it. I met her in a coffee shop and learned that she’d traveled the world. She’d trekked across countries, roamed entire continents. We exchanged numbers when we parted, but who knows where she is now.
3) a time, alone
I stood on the top of a mountain, as tip-top as I could get. It took me awhile, as I shifted myself about for those last five or so feet, carefully calculating which slightly more elevated patch of land would merit being called the tip. I stood there, hands on hips, looking around. I stood there, quite alone, one girl atop a mountain amidst the mighty Himalayas.
4) understanding the world
When he told me he loved me, I began to reassess my priorities. He gazed confidently into my eyes and I suddenly understood love songs. I suddenly had true empathy for the voices behind all those songs, all those tens of thousands of songs. He broke down a wall and a whole world of undiscovered meaning came pouring in.
5) friends
It was Brittany’s turn, so Louise and I tried to be inconspicuous as we quietly stood watch. The target: a large red bowl of dark chocolate truffles. It was Saturday, so the samples were particularly good today. Ten minutes ago, the bowl looked invitingly full. As I pretended to read the ingredients on a cereal box, I heard, for the fifth time in ten minutes, the small “Aha!” that Brittany let out as if she’d just spotted the chocolates for the very first time, and was presently relishing in her new discovery.
6 responses so far ↓
kflagg // February 18, 2008 at 5:20 pm
I met my first Shira this weekend. How odd!
I like what’s happening in your first narrative — the interchangeable experience of remembering and experiencing. The way you litter “remember” in the last few lines is really nice.
I saw that you posted the audio version of the fourth narrative, so I’ll respond to that one really quickly. The first line is really interesting: the “I began to reassess my priorities” is telling, and an interesting way of turning something general (“when he told me he loved me”) with phrasing that is so matter-of-fact, almost clinical. That said, I think the foray into the love songs (followed by the image of the wall being broken down) is a little too general; I found myself a little lost in the generalities. I was also confused by the connection of that empathy with love songs to the reassessment of priorities. I’d say you might want to inject something more grounded. What if you quoted a few lines from love songs, appropriating those images or lines or voices so that we understand a little better what the empathy you’re touching on? It’s so hard to write about something like love in a way that is unique, but what you’re doing in that first line — turning the sentiment, bringing something analytical to a very sentimental moment — is a really strong start.
laublog5 // February 19, 2008 at 4:48 pm
I really enjoyed your “Shira” narrative. The line “Her name was Shira — her real name. My jaw dropped when she said it. ” was especially powerful for me. Her real name. What does that mean to you? I think it might be great to explore that concept of “Shira” being the REAL name. (The play on imaginary and reality is strong but could stand to be further examined.) Also, I remember hearing (and I could be totally wrong) that Shira meant something like “song”. How does that influence the idea of travel?
Who are you NOW in relation to Shira? I struggle with the part where you mention the childhood games being “mindless”. Imaginary creations for me were much more of an exploration that I wish I still had the something (innocence, time, imagination?) to make. I don’t think you can write off jaw-dropping Shira as a “mindless” creation. Look into this.
All in all, this is a fresh piece that didn’t state anything too clearly (which really worked for this subject matter). I’m interested to see where you take it (if you choose to work with it more).
simone // February 20, 2008 at 10:33 am
Katie – I agree that my fourth narrative starts to fall into the generic after my first sentence. It’s hard because it’s all true and honest and real, but it sounds very generalized. I think grounding it is a good idea – to bring in specific moments in my experience to make the moment more “mine” – keeping the idea, but changing the presentation of it.
simone // February 20, 2008 at 10:37 am
Laura – thank you for your point about my use of the word “mindless.” I realize that that’s not what I meant at all; the childhood games were not mindless for me at all at the time that I played them. Perhaps I was writing with too much of a lens (looking back on it now), but even so, I don’t think of them as mindless. I’m not sure why I used that, so I should reexamine this point. Also, it would be interesting to delve further into the separation (or merging?) of the imaginary Shira and the real Shira. I think I may use this piece for my multimedia project.
thilmes // February 20, 2008 at 6:48 pm
Simone,
I really loved your last narrative about sample day at the grocery store. I can totally relate, although we never got anything as a good as truffles at the supertarget in my town. It was always yogurt or special k. I think if you use a similar descriptive technique in some of your other narratives it would really help them move beyond more cliche terminology and into a specific moment from YOUR world. No one elses. Can’t wait to see where you end up with this!
eleaphant // February 22, 2008 at 2:24 pm
I really like the simplicity and the concise quality of your narratives. You create images very effectively, and I get a strong sense of your presence in the narratives. On number 4, I really, really liked “I began to reassess my priorities.” that caught me by surprise, and my first reaction was that you were not really able to return his feelings or meet him in the moment. but as I read you seemed to say that you wanted to incorporate him into your world, put his love at the top of the list. Are you trying to convey a character who is so strong and independent that it takes work to let someone in? I think you have a really powerful window into this moment; it’d be cool to see it expanded.