Trying a little something new. Something I’ve wanted to do for a while. For the next few days, I will be posting the pieces I submitted for my Writing Minor Portfolio. They are all from classes I took Sophomore to Senior Year at Keene State College. Most of them are memoir in nature, but a few are slightly different. These are pieces I love, but know still need work. If you would like to know more of the stories behind the pieces, let me know and I will be happy to share! Also, any and all constructive feedback is always welcome – just because these were the final versions to be submitted doesn’t mean that they are perfect.
Oh, and also? These are mine. Do not
steal them. Thanks.
Go
Fish
A Dream Story, Written for Cooking, Eating and Dreaming, Junior Year.
“I am a big fish in a teeny-tiny pond. I need to get out,” I state clearly and
plainly to my goldfish. “You know how it
feels, when you outgrow your tank.” My
goldfish swims over to me and swishes her tail in agreement. “Yes, I do.
By the way… the tank is getting small again.” I just shrug and turn to face the revolving
door in the middle of my bedroom.
“Sorry, Ms. Fish. Not my problem
anymore.” I push the door…
And come out
in the Plaza Hotel lobby in New York City . Everything is black and white, except for the
brass door, creaking to a stop behind me.
A piano plays something mellow from the dining room. The lobby is void of furniture, plants, and and
full of a seemingly endless rows of treadmills.
On the treadmills, identical people wearing identical black tracksuits,
smooth skin where their faces should be, walk in steady unison. They all turn their blank faces to me. There are no empty treadmills, so I have to
go. I turn and push on the door…
The Chinese
Theater in Los Angeles towers over
me. It is abandoned, a breeze gently
swaying my skirt, old movie posters scattering at my feet. I am surrounded by Technicolor, big band
music playing from the sky. I walk over
to Judy Garland’s prints, but they are gone.
She has left me a message in the pavement: “Stop trying to be me and
find your own way!” A sob breaks out
from my chest as I push my way through the door…
I land on Appian
Way in front of the Keene State College Mason Library. It is an average fall day, leaves scattered all
around, and the perpetual smell of apples surrounds me. The computerized library bells clang out a
Beatles tune. There is an old woman
standing on the stairs to the library, a history book in one hand and a
graduation cap in the other. On the step
next to her is the fish tank with my ever growing fish. The tank is twice the size, but the fish is
still the same. I turn around, but the
revolving door has disappeared, a grassy lawn in its place. I step forward to hug the old woman, take the
book and put it in the backpack that has appeared at my feet. I put the cap on my head, and pick up my
fish. “Yeah, I guess we didn’t really
need a bigger tank after all.”
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