More activities from writing courses. I provided the students a series of black and white photographs, asked them to list observations, and then asked them to freewrite a scene. These are starts that I did with them...
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Notes:
hot sticky air
stagnant
until a train blows through
suctions the air
shakes it up for a moment
then it settles back
smothers
fluorescent lights
makes faces glow/look flat simultaneously
Freewrite:
The ground rumbles. Babies cry. Nameless faces crackle under fluorescent light. The air is stale. It is hot, sticky, stagnant. It settles over me like a down comforter in July. I drop my bag to the ground, ignoring the inner voice, probably my grandmother's, "Do you have any idea who or what has been on this floor?"
Doesn't matter, Gram. My arm is falling off.
I watch the people across the tracks. As they rush into the underground station, they screech to a halt at the end of the platform. An inconvenience. A forced halt in their day. They avoid eachother's eyes. So many people, so many stories that few will ever know. They stand there willing the minute hand to stop, to slow down, to give them a moment's reprieve from the ceaseless deathnell of their day.
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Notes:
wheels cutting through puddles
water splashing
muffled sounds
misty rain
not quite raindrops
enough to know they're there
Freewrite:
Everything changes when it mists. Not rain, mind you. Mist is different. The raindrops are indistinguishable from each other, but you know they are there. Like a premonition, like one of those lurking bad feelings, the mist makes its presence known.
My footsteps echo on the cobblestone, sounds muffled, street lights glowing. And as a car rolls by, I jump to the side. My ears tell me I should be soaked, but there's not enough water. Instead, everything is thinly veiled by the omnipresent something that let's us know we're alive.
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