By: D.A., Sue, Doghouse, and Marie
Writing Ideas - "Exercise 18"
Imagine that you are lying in a hammock, gazing up the trunk of tree that holds the hammock. You are profoundly relaxed; summer is almost over. Your mind drifts with the slow rocking of the hammock. Your spirit soars toward the top of the great white pine. Suddenly....
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1 .
... a bird poops on my chest. Angry and disgusted, I jump up from the hammock, only to have my feet tangled in it. I twist around and fall to the ground. As I lay there, my cat comes over to investigate what I am doing on the ground. His whiskers tickle my face and makes me laugh.
"Oh Malkie! Stop that!" He defused the situation again so I wouldn't get angry (No one Likes me when I'm Angry!). A God-send really this cat. I can barely remember the darkness before he came. The devastation, the destruction. With those dark thoughts, I gathered myself and went to change.
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2.
... a low rumble blots out all noise. BANG! it sounds as if a shot rings out. I jump up and look around. Where did that sound come from?
Just then I smelled an all too familiar smell and remembered what I had for dinner last night. I must have dozed off and when I relaxed . . . oh, curse those onions! I think maybe I'd better go in and take a shower because if I'm not ready at 6:30, then . . .
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3.
... my neighbor appears in her living room window naked as the day she was born and from what I can tell with half-closed eyes she seems to be looking directly at me as I slowly rock side to side. Her hands aren't visible below the window sill, but she's rocking at the same speed I am. Do I pretend to be asleep or do I move my head and let her know I see her. I wonder what would happen if...
.. her husband caught me watching her. My mind drifts to his shotgun collection and his "prize" animal heads mounted as trophies on the wall. My fear of her husband is stronger than my desire to watch her. I gently roll off the hammock and move out of the way so I cannot see her anymore. I smile as I know that I have done my good deed for the day.
I walk back to the porch and my smile turns to a sneer when I stop and think about all the times I've heard my neighbor, Mr. NRA himself, screaming at his wife in the middle of the night. Calling her names that made even me blush. No one deserves to be spoken to like that and she certainly doesn't seem the type to rouse that type of anger from anyone. Not to mention the kids who are even closer to it than I am. Maybe this is why it seems like over half of his reclying is beer cans every Tuesday. Yeah, so it's not up to me, but if it were . . .
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4.Damn, a bear must have eaten me after I fell asleep. What a bloody mess down there. So much for my relaxing day in the hammock....
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