dust

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Last week in my creative writing class we played this sort of game. We made 2 lists; one for nouns and the other for verbs. We chose a word from each list and put them in a sentence together. We then crumpled up the paper and threw it in the center of the class and grabbed someone else's paper. We would add another sentence, wad it back up, and pick a new one. We did this a few times and I just wanted to share the one I got :o)


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The book runs marathons through my mind. It tramples my thoughts into dust, which carelessly blows into the wind. Forming a dark cloud that blocked out the sun. As if pulling shades down from the heavens, tearing the sky into two halves; dark and light. I wish I could filter to see beyond the dust. The particles swirl above me, below me, in between the spaces of my limbs. I am encompassed by a sea of brown, contaminating my lungs. Not breathing. Not listening. The world is darker than before. The last shard of light diminishes. When will the dust settle? Will it ever?

Created: Jan 31, 2012

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