The rocking chair slowly came to a halt and Jeanie listened to the quiet of the night. Everything was still and the minute noises of the house echoed loud and clear from the darkness. She unclenched her hands and let her knees fall from her chest back to the floor. She slowly stood up and decided to go to bed, although she knew sleep would allude her.
Category Archives: Writing Exercise
Jeanie Part 6
Why did things seem so complicated now, Jeanie asked herself. When she was younger and couldn’t sleep at night she used to dream of living in a different time. She would imagine growing up in the 1940’s, when her parents were her age. She’d imagine herself blowing kisses to her soldier husband, and then join the work force at the factory making bullets for her husband’s machine gun.
Jeanie Part 5
But Jeanie didn’t smile back at the stuffed bird. She flopped in the old wooden rocking chair, hardly thinking how old it was. Her mother bought it when Jeanie was born so she could rock the newborn baby to sleep. Jeanie pulled her knees up to her chin and let the chair rock on its own.
Jeanie Part 4
Jeanie’s mom kissed her forehead when she said goodnight. Jeanie forced a smile and said goodnight, as pleasant as she could. She sighed when her mother left. The last time her mother kissed her on the forehead she was leaving for prom and her mother didn’t know what else to do. Her mother never knew what else to do.
Jeanie Part 3
The distraction worked, and two hours later Jeanie pulled into her parents driveway. She shut the car off and sat in the silence for a few minutes. Her parent’s house. She had moved out six years ago, and hadn’t been back for more than a weekend in all that time. Everything seemed just as she left it, the quite house at the end of its street. In the distance a lone dog barked, and Jeanie wondered for the first time if coming home would really solve anything. She slumped against the car and looked up to the night sky.
Jeanie Part 2
The officer turned and walked away, slowly shaking his head.
Jeanie forced herself to crank the window back up, and with eyes glazed over she pulled back onto the highway. She tried to realize what she had just said. That sob story had been building up inside of her for days. But what was that last part?
Her eyes glanced up to the mirror and down to the speedometer. Pregnant. She hadn’t thought of that before. A deep dread filled her as she thought about it. Of all the things, that was the last thing she needed. But what if?
Her eyes drifted off at the thought and she started counting days. But the count got too high and she pulled off the highway in search of something to drink, something to distract.
Jeanie Part 1
Her name was Jeanie, and I love her. Of course she didn’t know it. Nobody ever does. It was early autumn and leaves should have been bright reds and yellows, glorious oranges like the sunset. But they weren’t. They were brown and green or somewhere in between. The sky was even gray to match, and nothing seemed right. But that’s the way things were going. Jeanie’s little two door Toyota flew along the country highway about as fast as it could go, but not quite as fast as Jeanie wanted to get home.
The Lifestyle Statement
The air was thick and heavy, weighing down the room like a fog. It was an exceptionally warm, spring day, and the air conditioning was working well. A little too well. I shivered slightly, but tried not to let it show. I couldn’t believe what was happening. She was sitting on the other side of the desk, her blue eyes awaiting an answer. I thought I saw a sly smile on her lips, but it wasn’t there. I only hoped it was. I looked again to the ceiling to avoid her gaze. Then my eyes scanned the photo-lined walls of my office, the rich, dark wood trim, and the shelf of books and knick-knacks from my assorted travels.
Rules
“I don’t know,” she said, “It’s like driving circles in an empty parking garage.”
With that I frowned and looked the other way.
“So is this the college you’re going to?” I asked, pointing to a slick looking folder that was lying on top of a stack of papers. The name of the college blazed across the front, just above a picture of a metaphor that was trying way too hard. Tracy just nodded. I leaned over, picked up the folder and leafed through the contents, noticing that she had filled out the full application–except for one part.
Guy from that Band
She couldn’t sleep. It’d been a rough night and that six page paper was due at 11:00 a.m. She’d written more than enough tonight. She decided she’d wake up early enough tomorrow and finish it off. Right now she needed something else. It was a quiet and still night, and the sidewalk was even quieter. Everything was dripping with the silver glow of the full moon. The buildings and the street looked oddly lit, but she didn’t care. Her paper was almost done, and that was all that mattered. The fresh air helped. She breathed it in slowly, forcing the air through her nostrils and feeling it fill her lungs. It cleared the clouds that hung in her mind. It’s amazing how fresh the city air can be at night.