Saturday, January 20, 2007

Writing exercise 1


I see my cottage rising from the bottom of the earth. Why do I say “bottom” of the earth? My property is below road level and as I walk farther into the lot, the earth dips another 5 feet. Part of the property was recently filled but another part was left as is to build the foundation of my 3 cottages. I can now see it gaping widely with parts slightly under water.

The sound of an angry and snarling dog scares the heck out of me. I realize I am alone and no one about to whom I could shout for “Help”. I have no stick to defend myself in case this mad dog, who has never seen a veterinarian, attacks me. I walk away from it feigning pluck, which is nothing close to what I really feel.

The smell of newly laundered clothes make me wince in horror. But the sun has been missing for days and my clothes must have been slightly damp when the laundry woman ironed them. It is an embarrassment and I hope I meet no one along the beach on my way home. I wish I could buy a real dryer. Not the spinner they call dryer!

I taste saltwater in my mouth as I walk leisurely on the beach. These days have been windy and I’ve been spritzed and sprayed by seawater. My hair is no longer soft. It is in a tangled web and stands on edge. I hope we’ll see sunnier days soon. Summer is a couple of months away.

I look across the long avenue of sand, to the islands in the distance and the skies above. I’m praying my new home will be completed soon. I can see the long, narrow corridor now defined by a five foot concrete fence. There at the end of a long driveway my Balinese cottage will rise amidst lush greenery. It’s all drawn up in my head, waiting to see the light of a tropical day.

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