the daily writer by fred white: day one

DETAILS AND EMOTIONS

1. Write a scene in which you convey your main character’s emotions indirectly through dialogue or action rather than through explicit description of the emotional response.

Before the girl placed her hand on the door, she noticed it trembling already. It seemed an eternity before she could will herself to actually open the door and confront what waited for her on the other side. Sunlight seemed to pour in as the door widened. She winced; whether it was from the brightness or the shock, she wasn’t sure. More seconds passed in silence like years. She stared up at the woman in the doorway with skepticism radiating from her eyes. So intent was her gaze, that the near stranger cast her own eyes to the ground. Should she hug her? Should she greet her? Should she invite her in? This was, after all, her mother. Mother. That thought of that term caused her to sigh, breaking the silence. “Hello,” the woman finally said. And the girl wished she hadn’t.

2. Describe a landscape in a way that generatese a feeling of bleakness or sublimity without resorting to words like bleak or sublime.

Ash. Every inch, every surface covered. The air seemed to be absent from this place, as if it was void of everything but the havoc wreaked by the fire.  The emptiness even seemed to stifle the cries of the burned, but still they were heard. If only there were someone to answer.

eraser dust

i cannot. i scream.
but they hear whispers.
the pain, the want, the dark.
how am i to forget
that you don’t remember,
i will never understand.
what of promises, what of me.
i am still waiting,
and yet no one but me speaks.

bliss

these are the days set free,
the ones of liberty of love,
those that most dream of.
shall you stay here with me?
listlessness lives on now
but soon will too retire.
lets let all transpire,
and then forget how.

‘nacht’

for so long i have tried to escape,
but for so long i had to wait.
i had to wait and wonder,
the distance like dark.
i still don’t see nor understand,
i remain unsure of the man.
the boy(s) that walked away,
did they look back?
have they ever seen what i lack,
would they recognize my loss?
I wonder and wait.

the best of the best

I dreamt once that my grandmother was still alive. It must have been a gift from God because this dream lasted and lasted; it was night of sleep turned into a months of living with her again. She was everything that made me who I am. She was my mother figure, my friend, and my guidance. If I could have never woken up and dreamt that dream forever, I would have chosen that. It goes without saying that you never know what you have until you lose it. Her absence has been much more noticeable that her presence. It is hard to imagine that I have never seen her again since the last time. Lately I find myself forgetting…I can still remember the way her caring hands felt, I remember how she smelled…but her voice is fading away, the look in her eyes is harder to recall. But I want to remember forever, I wish there was a way. There is so much in my life that has happened, so many trials and hurts, memories and happiness, all things I wanted her to experience and help me through. She was going to be the one I called when I fell in love and then call again when I fell out of it. She would be the one I ran to when school and work and life were too much to handle, she would encourage me when I wanted to quit. She would be my place of rest in times like these…

but she is gone. I don’t miss her any less. I’d give anything to have her back for just a moment. Long enough to tell her how I loved her. Tell her that I understand all that she did for me. Tell her that even when I have everything I have ever wanted she is still the part missing from my life. I just hope she knows, somehow, that she changed my life. I hope she knows.

Coming Soon.

thirty days of poem and prose about faith, joy, peace and humility.