The scent of freshly dried, soft cotton lazily fills the room. The squatting dimpled candle sitting by my computer has begun to tell me its secrets. The flame leans in close to me to whisper its dreams and then pulls back sharply with worry. It tries again. Bowing forward to get as close to me as possible, it spins tales of firelight and hotdogs dripping grease. When I smile and say, “A candle can dream, right” it bounces from side to side in excitement. With a flicker of anticipation, the flame circles around and around in its glass container; looking, searching, for a way to take one step closer to its dream.
I started my writing class this week. Above is the first assignment (besides the introduction) that our instructor had us do. We had to describe a candle. What do you think?
More to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment