Monday, January 30, 2006

As Orange Gives to Blue

The windows are rolled down and the hot, humid air whips my hair in such a way that prevents me from seeing where we are headed. I grab it with my right hand and put it in a makeshift ponytail as I rest my elbow on the window.

I squint. The sun is bright, even though it is making its decent; its orange hue floods the car, filling it with warmth and a reminder of the day that is about to pass.

I am the passenger in a car driving South. Or is it North? Today, it does not matter, as long as the car keeps on driving.

Every moment spent in this sun soaked car rolls me closer to something that resembles living. Something sweet and innocent and new and exciting all at the same time.

As orange gives to blue and then black, the world transforms into my dream land-a place where fairies dance in a firefly lit oasis and a toad can truly become a prince.

My prince.

Note: I think that writing has a rhythm. In my head I really feel like I need to make this longer, but in my heart this is where the writing stops. I'm not sure why it happens like that. I've tried to elongate this little story now for the past 1/2 hr, only to come back to the same stopping point as above. Does it happen to anyone else when they write?

4 comments:

C-Unit said...

I think thats a perfect stopping point!

megan said...

Seemed like the right place to stop to me too. Always trust your heart.

Hamel said...

Sometimes a piece of writing is quite seperate, as distant as it can be, at least, from the author.

The muse is a funny thing. Sometimes she takes your hand and all but puts words there for you. You step back and try to change - alter, delete or add - and nothing works.

That's the difference, at least one of them, in being a writer and simply writing. "A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult," or something like that.

Antonia said...

I love your little story!

I think it stops in just the right place, but I do know what you mean, when I'm writing everything just tends to flow out of me (sometimes far too quickly!) and then it just stops - I always know that means I'm in the right place to stop even though sometimes I want to say more.