Friday, March 16, 2012

Timed Writing: 3/16/2012

Time: 10 minutes
Source photo: Reflecting on the School Day by Lee Ratters

"What are we doing here?" I asked. "This place is a total dump."

We were in an empty classroom in the abandoned school house, up on the hill by the water tower. Big multi-pane windows looked down on the town. Several of them were open and some were cracked or empty. Holes in the roof admitted beams of sunlight and the entire floor was flooded with an inch or two of water. Wisps of algae grew beneath the reflected sky, clouds, and window frames. Random gusts of ocean air cut through the mildew stink.

"We need some place different. Some place you would not normally be," she said. "We will convince your mind brain that you are somewhere else. Then we will be able to transport you." Varja had been talking about aliens and hypnotism and "transport" since I'd first met her a couple weeks before. Some of the other guys had warned me that she was weird that way -- that she was always talking about cooky stuff. I didn't mind. She could talk about whatever she wanted. She was a girl -- a really hot girl -- and she was talking to me. If she'd recited nursery rhymes or instruction manuals for a sewing machine, I would have been happy to listen.

Varja was an exchange student from Croatia and it didn't seem like she got along well with Anna, her host family's daughter. Anna was alright, but she was awfully serious and not much fun to be around. Once Varja came to live with her though, Anna started getting invited to all the parties and stuff, and she knew why. I think it kind of pissed her off, 'cause on the one hand, she was mad that she'd never gotten invited before and then she was mad that she had to go and take Varja along with her, just 'cause her parents said she had to be a good host. Anyway, as soon as Varja discovered that I'd listen to her talk about weird stuff and even ask questions and act interested, she quit hanging out with Anna except when she had to. Most everyone thought we were going out and I wished it was true, but there wasn't anything like that.

(about my timed writing exercises)

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