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So I had to wake up early today to register, and is my schedule. I like where it's going, but I'm nervous about having all of my classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Hopefully that will turn out alright.

Also, I'm working on a creative writing assignment, and I'm really not sure where it's going right now.
Open your eyes. Let them adjust to the darkness. Blobs become near geometric shapes become recognizable objects. The world is sideways. The trees stretch up and out of your line of sight to your right, and that’s not quite right, is it? Your left hand is tucked beneath your body, a fist against your sternum. Push yourself upright with your other hand, and watch the world re-orient itself around your new perspective. Trees stretch up now, and that’s the way it’s always been. Your eyes follow the trees into the sky, and you see stars and a crescent moon, its horns toward the trees. There’s something about the trees reaching toward the moon that reaches for them that you can’t quite comprehend right now. A low hoot sounds somewhere from the darkness behind you. You turn around, more trees, and in those trees, an owl, which is only discernable from its glowing eyes. It regards you, regally, before deciding you are not prey and flying off. Suddenly, the loneliness is palpable, and you shiver. You gather your knees to your chest, hugging your legs to yourself. How did you get here? Why can you not remember anything before now?

Swallowing down the panic attempting to push itself into your throat, you stand. There’s something in your fisted left hand that you just notice now: a folded piece of paper. It is thick with well worn creases and slightly damp from your sweating palm. Unfold the paper and strain your eyes to discern the writing. The script is familiar, somehow, and it reads ‘Look closer. I am always with you.’ Lost in thought, you don’t notice the sound of footfalls until the paper is snatched from your hands. A young man, mischievous eyes and crooked smirk, stands before you, now with your parchment in his hands.

His smirk goes even more crooked reading the note before he says, ‘I know where you need to go. I’ve met many wanderers who’ve gotten themselves lost in these woods. Lucky for you I’m out here tonight. Follow me.’ He turns from you and begins to walk off, seemingly with purpose.

Dumbfounded, you stand rooted to your place, unable to think of a proper response. You’re sure once you would have been able to think up a proper retort, but right now you need to follow him. He’s the first person you’ve come across so far, and something tells you he’ll be the last.

It's supposed to be my telling of "The Way" to live your life. Any suggestions? The second person is a bit scary; I probably should change that, but I kind of like it. I also feel like the imperatives are strong, stylistically, but it's a bit over stylized for a simple writing assignment, I think. Any help?

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
x_snap_x
Apr. 23rd, 2006 06:45 pm (UTC)
I really like your assignment and the second person; I think you should keep it. Also, the beginning sounds just like Plato's cave allegory and the rest reminds me of HP, hehe.
manimalogy
Apr. 23rd, 2006 07:50 pm (UTC)
Ugh, Plato. Also, I'd be lying if I were to say that HP didn't affect a great deal of my writing.
svetlyee
Apr. 24th, 2006 12:05 pm (UTC)
It reminded me of Harry Potter too! Enjoyed it, also; can't think of anything to criticize with it.
manimalogy
Apr. 24th, 2006 03:22 pm (UTC)
Open your eyes. Let them adjust to the darkness. Blobs become near geometric shapes become recognizable objects. The world is sideways. The trees stretch up and out of your line of sight to your right, and that’s not quite right, is it? Your left hand is tucked beneath your body, a fist against your sternum. Push yourself upright with your other hand, and watch the world re-orient itself around your new perspective. Trees stretch up now, and that’s the way it’s always been. Your eyes follow the trees into the sky, and you see stars and a crescent moon, its horns toward the trees. There’s something about the trees reaching toward the moon that reaches for them that you can’t quite comprehend right now. A low hoot sounds somewhere from the darkness behind you. You turn around, more trees, and in those trees, an owl, which is only discernable when the moonlight glints off its eyes as it swivels its head. It regards you, regally, before deciding you are not prey and flying off. Suddenly, the loneliness is palpable, and you shiver. You gather your knees to your chest, hugging your legs to yourself. How did you get here? Why can you not remember anything before now?
Swallowing down the panic attempting to push itself into your throat, you stand. There’s something in your fisted left hand that you just notice now: a folded piece of paper. It is thick with well worn creases and slightly damp from your sweating palm. Unfold the paper and strain your eyes to discern the writing. The script is familiar, somehow, and it reads ‘Look closer. I am always with you.’ Lost in thought, you don’t notice the sound of footfalls until the paper is snatched from your hands. A young man, mischievous eyes and uneven smirk, stands before you, now with your parchment in his hands. His mouth becomes even more crooked as he reads the note.
“I know where you need to go,” he declares. His eyes rake over you, assessing you. “I’ve met many wanderers who’ve gotten themselves lost in these woods. Lucky for you I’m out here tonight.” He turns from you and begins to walk off, seemingly with purpose. “Follow me,” he calls over his shoulder before you lose sight of him in the shadows and shrubbery.
Dumbfounded, you stand rooted to your place, unable to think of a proper response. You’re sure once you would have been able to think up a suitable retort, but right now you need to follow him. He’s the first person you’ve come across so far, and something tells you he’ll be the last. You rush headlong through the underbrush, hoping he’s not gone, when you collide with his back. You now stand in a clearing with a small cottage surrounded by fecund gardens.
“I thought this was going to be some kind of epic journey! You lead me fifteen feet!” you exclaim. He turns to you, not even bothering to hide his amusement
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

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