Portfolio Piece #6: Gingerbread

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.

Gingerbread

A Dream Story, Written for Cooking, Eating and Dreaming, Written Junior Year.

Kayla missed class again.  She said it was due to the snow.  I looked out my window and saw powdered sugar on a gingerbread landscape.  I assured her it’s not that bad, but she had already hung up.  I heaved a sigh of annoyance.  She always missed class at the sight of a snowflake, and doesn’t listen to me anymore.  I feel obsolete.

            Jesslyn and Meghan were making marshmallow snowmen on my lawn, laughing loudly at private jokes they never intend to share, as people wearing gumdrop hats wandered around, smiling and waving at each other.  My window fills with frost, as my heart slips to my feet.  I turn away and see my dear friend sitting at my generic college-supplied desk.  “I love you,” I say to his back.  He turns around, a big warm smile on his face.  “Awww, I love you, too.”  His smile picks up my heart and puts it back in its place.  It is always nice to know that someone cares. 

            I walk up behind him and give wrap my arms around his shoulders in a snuggly hug.  “I am so grateful to have you in my life, “Big Brother”.  You always appreciate me.”  He stands up and takes both my hands in his.  “Come on, let’s go out and join them.”

            We walk hand in hand catching powdered sugar on our tongues.  Whimsical music is tinkling around us as we stroll through this gingerbread world.  I wave to Meghan and Jesslyn, their snowmen falling over as they turn to wave back.  Gumdrop-hatted people call out with enthusiastic greetings to him.  It’s always to him – I get polite nods. 

            “Hey, “Little Sis”, you know I’ll always be here for you.  Right?” “Of course I know that.  The feeling is mutual,” I say to the falling powdered sugar that has distracted me with its sweetness.  When I turn to smile at him, my heart once again falls.  I am alone.  I heaved a side of sadness, though I am not surprised.  Gumdrops and marshmallows are always more exciting. 

I try to call Kayla back, to tell her it’s safe to come to school, but she doesn’t hear me.  She is too busy with other people.  I try to join Meghan and Jesslyn in their snowmen endeavors, but they have wandered off together.  I smile and wave at the gumdrop people, and am ignored.  I shrug and go back inside, taking my perch by the window.  “I knew it,” I whisper to the frosty window.  “I am obsolete.”