I wrote these two passages when I was just starting my love for writing. They are very innocent and ignorant, and I like to think I was a very different person six years ago.
Exploring the Self through Creative Writing
University of Ottawa Course (May 7-11, 2012)
A Different Side
She moved like a gazelle. Her gait was legato almost peaceful. Called by the name of Ruby, she let everyone in with a greeting smile. Not only was Ruby outgoing and seemingly friendly, she made homeless people feel at home. But something was wrong with Ruby. She would help others then disappear briefly. She was found once under a bench, shivering beside a box. Ruby explained that this particular box holds almost everything she loved. A picture of her mom, who had passed away 3 years ago, a green lollipop still wrapped up alongside other ancient-looking candy and another smaller box which Ruby didn’t want people to see. She said, “This box is empty. Nothing special. Just a box.” But her blood-shot eyes inquired differently. One thing we found out a little too late was that Ruby used to enlighten herself daily with drugs mixed with old candy. Before she died, she had spat out, “I hate everyone.”
Leave it to Heat
It’s remarkable how people can recall an experience from way back into their lives. An image that pops into my find is when I was seated fairly close to my neighbours and older sister while warming our extremely damp socks. It had been a cold day with icicles stuck to the streetlights but all of our eager little feet convinced us to never miss the chance to skate. The heater in front of us was barely long enough for two people but we squeezed together and grasped every watt of heat that we could. The red as blood lines of warmth on the heater have been engraved into my mind as a picture that started our friendships. We have been friends ever since.