Prompt: Create a short story that is 26 sentences long, each sentence beginning with the next letter of the alphabet.
Source: Modified from http://www.warren-wilson.edu/~creativewriting/Prompts.php.
Original Airdate: Today.
Response:
Alison loves the way the sun slants through her house's window panes. Before she leaves every morning she takes a moment to stare at the sparkling patterns of sunlight on the floor. Curtains in hand, pulled back gently, she loses herself in the warmth.
Devin loves to watch the girl across the street. Every morning she pulls back the curtain and stares at the way the light comes in through her window. Going through data sheets containing data about money he will never see always seems more tolerable when he sees the little, innocent smile on his neighbor's face. However long she stands at the window, curtains in hand, he always wishes she had stood there longer. In the evening he glances across the street as he closes his own curtains, wishing that she would experience a sudden craving for moonlight.
Just before she goes to sleep, Alison looks at her curtains. Keeping her home cool at night is difficult, so she keeps a fan running most night; it kicks up the curtains' edges. Lying back on her bed, Alison sighs and wishes for the sun.
Most nights, Devin only gets a few hours of sleep. No matter how still he lies, his mind rings with data and monotony. Over and over the data sheets of the day parade behind his eyelids.
Pouring her morning coffee, Alison never takes her eyes of her mug. Quaint little roses pattern its porcelain skin in yellows like the sun. Roses adorned the walk of her childhood home and she spent many hours stowed away beneath the rose bushes. Sunlight always seemed drawn to the gentle yellow petals and the child lying beneath them. Through her as of yet unopened curtains, Alison imagines she can see the same sun, though she knows that in her adult years it has changed.
Under his covers, Devin watches the clock so that he can get up in time to watch the neighbor watch the light. Vaguely he remembers once smiling that easily, he envies her the tilt of her lips and the patch of sunlight she claims each morning with a smile. Without so much as an emotion on his face, too old for his age, he spies on her. Youthful dreams dance on his neighbor's lips, driving the data sheets from the night before from his mind.
Notes: I skipped X and Z because those letters have practically no purpose :)
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
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