[Lioness]

I've noticed throughout my time here many occupants of this board have displayed their works of literature, poetry, and drama. I would like this thread to be a place where people can post anything they are working on, or have finished and would like some feedback on - from school papers and college thesis' to stories, poems, and plays. I only ask that the material follow the forum guidelines, and comments and critiques are polite, helpful, and thought through.

To start off, I'll post here a narrative I'm doing for a school assignment: "to describe a time when you experienced the unexplainable." I wrote this in the half hour I left myself before class (ah, procrastination...) and thus it is quite random and thrown together... I have to hand in a final draft Monday and would appreciate any commments on how I can pull it together a bit more, while keeping the distracted, "in-the-moment" feel I want it to have.

Thank you! [img]smile.gif[/img]

Write anything, she said.
(And that made me think about all the knots in my hair.) I pulled three strings of shiny black beads off my left wrist, revealing the puckered indents they left. I couldn’t type with them on; they cut off the circulation of thoughts running through my blood – from my heart to my hands, trickling out onto the screen before me. The pads of my fingers greeted the keyboard like a childhood sweetheart, tentative at first, hesitant, depending on eyes to seek out the needed letters. But slowly they grew accustomed to each other as the words flowed smoothly and silently. I could have put the bracelets back on now, had I wanted, the words were not coming out of my head or heart but kindled from the spark as my fingers ran lightly over the keys.
Her hands tugged absentmindedly in my windswept hair as she battled the tangles left there by lack of care. “What did the lawyer name her daughter?” she said.
“No,” I murmured. “No, the unexpected.”
She ignored me, and began roping thin strands of my hair into a series of small braids. I took no notice, the gentle pulling at the back of my head like strings to the marionettes of my fingers. I let them dance where they would.
“What’s the point of writing about the unexplainable, you can’t explain it by definition…”
I glanced up at her, twisting in my seat until my hair, wrapped around her fingers, was in front of my eyes. “That’s the point.” My fingers kept moving independent of my thoughts. “This isn’t a definition. It’s poetry. It’s a story. I…can’t explain it.”
“Any random thing, that’s what this paper is.” she replied, shaking her head as she brushed the last few tangles out of my hair.

[ 04-25-2003, 01:04 PM: Message edited by: Lioness ]