Creative Writing Production

When I originally told (in my old blog) of the creative writing class I am taking, some interest was expressed in seeing what I produced from it. The first assignment we had was the most interesting to me, so far.

"Assignment #1

Start with this title: The Window

Then, using this title, begin writing something. You may write about something true, something made up, or something halfway in-between. Up to you."

I thought I'd post the results of that assignment. It isn't an entire story, because the assignments are supposed to be kept to 500 words or less. Rather, it's the beginning of a story I may later finish, I haven't decided that yet.

The Window

I love looking out my window. I see the most wonderful things there. Today the sky is blue and the sun is shining.. It sparkles on the waves crashing onto the beach. The sand looks so soft that I long to feel it under my feet and between my toes. Seagulls float through the air, their wings spread wide. Palm fronds wave lazily in the breezes off the ocean.

The beach isn't too crowded, but a few people have spread towels to lay on and set up umbrellas for shade. A little girl wanders away from a young couple, ringlets of golden hair cascading down her head. She's unsteady on her feet and her bottom falls to the sand not far from her parents.

The young man scoops her up and takes her to the edge of the water, holding her up so that she can safely splash and play. It reminds me of beautiful days at the beach with my own parents. I remember those times as if they were just yesterday.

As I sit, looking out over paradise, I hear footsteps from someone entering the room behind me.

“Good morning Mrs. Driscoll. Are you alright dear?” She says to me.

I recognize the voice as belonging to Nurse Watkins. “I'm fine.” I tell her, never taking my gaze away from my window. More footsteps sound behind me, someone else approaching. They're quiet for awhile, until the newcomer, a young nurse's aid whose voice I also recognize, speaks.

“Nurse Watkins, why do you think she spends so many hours staring at that wall?”

The nurse doesn't answer for several moments. Finally she replies, “I don't think she's staring at the wall at all.”

I can hear their footsteps receding then, as they leave me alone with my view.