Wrinkle (260 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 0.5 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by ramirez60 (View user info) at 2007-04-12 10:27:27 EDT
It was the light. Everything about the room resounded a sense of belonging, but it was not artistic. The room had a sense of home, (the sense) that someone had truly lived there. By examining the sprawl of papers atop the desk, or the order of the shirts in the open closet, one could come to understand who's dwelling this was. This abode was constructed meticulously and in unraveling that construction, the mind of this creature, of this builder could slowly be understood. Almost everything in the room was machined, or created by the work of technology; very little echoed life, perhaps the wood in the chair, or the dust from the incense.
All these things, although inanimate, would somehow miss their use. The room had the eerie feeling of abandonment, not to be confused with dust covered books in libraries of old spinsters. There was an indescribable feeling that without their true owner, these things became shallow. But there was the lamp.
The room was not filled with colorful decorations, paintings, posters, or frivolous figures, but there was the lamp. A standing lamp about the height of a man, of this man. There was a plastic cone around it to guide the light so that it wouldn't be blinding and would allow the room to glow. When you turned it on, the room's essence began to swell. It was as if everything in the room started to saturate their existence knowing their purpose as he saw it. When the light was on, the whiteboard behind it glowed with the prospect of what could be written on it. The trombone that stood beside it looked noble and magnificent despite its age and rust. The calendar, forgotten on a date from months ago, looked like a place where he pondered over his schedule, timing his escape from this monotony that he both loved and hated.
One could almost see the outline of his body, with an arm resting on the wall and his right hand flicking across the calendar months, pointing at dates, his rich eyes looking at national holidays, occasionally glancing at the picture from that month. His face would contort in a manner of pondering, wondering those things minds wonder as the days go on. The light gave way to his smile, an honest smile, one that was always rooted in some memory of happiness, one that was so often apparent in those moments of happiness. The light was a passageway to the world that was alive in these walls.
But he was not. The light would be turned off, and the things sold off, and the life that was the very essence of this place, this haven for his reality, this world that had been contorted in his vision, was gone forever. The room and its age of life was over, as was this age of his life.
User Reviews
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-04-12 13:45:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://americandrumslinger.blogspot.com/2007/04/ubersitecraigslist-and-all-points-in.html
I caught a cheater, NSFW linkage.
Submitted by drgoatcabin (user info) at 2007-04-12 10:59:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No comment below
Submitted by odin (user info) at 2007-04-12 10:55:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2007-04-12 10:37:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
meh...
Not bad, but not all that interesting either.
3rd paragraph sounded confused.
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2007-04-12 10:31:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-04-12 09:39:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy crap dude...back after almost three years of not posting? Please do write more.
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just not today
Submitted by MEGACITO (user info) at 2007-04-12 10:29:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i don't want to say it sucked ... so i won't say it.