Tuesday’s Object Writing


So similar to my first object writing exercise (& those for the upcoming days), My first topic, “Curtain” I had 5 minutes  to write on. I got 10 minutes for “Breeze” & “Canyon” each. & I got 90 seconds to write about “Propeller.”


Curtain, silky white & smooth. Long, draping across the top of the window hanging to the ground, where it sits in a puddle. The wrinkles in the fabric, the ripples on a lake. White, but not like the winter snow, no. A softer white maybe ivory even. My black cat sits perched, a contrast to the white. Periwinkle walls. Protection from the outside world, the snoopers, the sunlight. All privacy thieves. Dark at night

Breeze, gently blowing. A dandelion in the wind. It unspools. Tiny specs floating about, what if “Who’s” really did exist? The breeze creates tiny waves, soft sprays of ocean float through the air to gently kiss your face. You taste the salt water. You remember your mother coating you in sunscreen as a child. The bare bottomed baby on the bottle. The breeze, too strong for the tiny birds wings, blown about, all the while fluttering, wondering where it will take him. The breeze blows lightly as you walk through the rain, it’s just a drizzle, but once more blowing tiny raindrops in your face, only this time it isn’t salt water. Nowhere near an ocean now, surrounded by the foggy morning air punctured only by sitka spruce trees in cold wet Washington state. The dandelion has travelled far and wide to get to the other side. From the shores of the Atlantic to the shores of the Pacific spreading seed

Canyon, deep, dark & eerie. What lies beneath these feet. So far down there. Ride a donkey down, packs on it’s back. Bottles of water to cool you down. Stay hydrated on the trek. There’s no water until you reach the river at the bottom. Dirty green water that winds and bends it’s way along the length of the crevice between the cliffs. Eroding the walls down even more. Ever so gradually. Not even noticeable. The walls reddish brown. Like rusted iron. Not made of clay though. The floor of the basin the same color. The color complimentary to the dirty green water. Crossing the color wheel, the full spectrum. Looking up, the primary color blue. Cyan-not like the pepper powder, which is spelled cayenne. Like deep in the ocean, the mind untangles. Unravelling it’s power, lost. Relaxed

Propeller, spinning, round & round. It goes down beneath the ocean or high into the sky. Don’t get to close because slice & dice you it will! Even sitting still. Dangerous to all, but put to good use

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