A Well-Lit Room (suggestions)

By oiki

Jules here is my suggestions for "A Well-Lit Room" Its mostly just sentence order changes and a few word additions. I added for the camels to chant up and out, a golden hook instead of the lace to reflect the light. I changed obscura to obscure. I think that was the word you were going for :). Let me know what you think. Other then that only minor suggestions. I love the story you put together. Well done.
A Well-Lit Room

Independent of thought the threaded needle moves up and down within an invisible orbit which always diminishes in turn. Buttons line the working table's edge in a dainty row, and the seamstress plunders them absently. Lace comes and goes; but, more often than not, it hangs around the golden hook reflecting a shadowy light.

It is within this shadowy light that the daily perceptions of a small china dromedary, whose view from the sewing room window sill of suggestive mirrors in a compact, west-facing room; of camera obscura daydreams on white brick walls—which always denies him the glow of the morning and evening sky.

Sitting adjacent to the china dromedary stands the porcelain camel figurines that softly chant "up and out and right back through the cloth again” as they view the threaded needle poking through the silken cloth handled hastily by the seamstress in the sewing room.

Such were the finite musings of a washboard in its off duty position while lying in the corner. She had become perhaps too cozy, cooled less often by the running water while in retirement than she was warmed by sunset, shadow, and the laziness of the dust. Yet she had been out to see the world at least, past the steeple skyline that she and the burnished armoire shared. It would always be her and her mistress working together by the riverbank. In those ancient moments alone with her mistress and the demure, yielding cloth, the washboard had listened to the earth underneath the water's breath and brought the echoes back with her for the whole room to still hear.

It was within those reflective moments that the armoire yawned open to relinquish more clothing, blotting the washboard from her mind's eye in the close quarters; but in that eruptive moment the washboard didn't mind because this evening a boy wandered in, transfixed by a wonderful sight while the armoire stretched her arms open and taking her petty, static revenge against the washboard.

"You made that for me!" he cried as the seamstress ordered him to her side.

"Your mouth was so dirty this morning, Cairn, that your tongue went and sprouted weeds," she said. "Let's see if you've cultivated a more befitting plant for the room." He would not be cautioned to put on his coat like a good boy again. He could never be told the hour was too late for questions. But she held him, and the tear skimming down his cheek spoke volumes in the human silence.

She wondered was it a trick of the light then that made the city suddenly look so beautiful, that awoke a keening dog to a greater sense of self? "When was the last time," the city demanded, "that you did something for the first time? When was the last time you remembered to live?"

As compassion continued to sweep the room; the mother followed in its wake, setting her thread and needle and buttons aside and upsetting for a moment the tableau. "Let's see how you like the wings," she said as Cairn leapt and bounced and ricocheted against her, raising his arms and lifting his chin for his mother to slip the newly sewn fabric over his head and down to his feet. He squirmed and arched his back to make his new appendages settle in between his thin shoulder blades, and she knelt down to hug and smooth his new pajamas into place.
"Tonight I'll dream of thirsty oceans that want to drink me up!" Cairn said to his mother as she nodded her head in encouragement. "I'll meet monsters who want to eat me before we've even said, 'Hello!'" At this, his mother laughed. "I'll see the boys from school who make me cross the gym during recess, and they'll throw things at me and grab me and throw me into a pile of darkness. But this time," Cairn smiled, "I'll be able to fly!"

A Well-Lit Room (suggestions)

Created: Apr 11, 2010


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