Thursday, February 14, 2013

Last minute piece

In my frantic attempts to study and complete my school work on time this week, I actually seem to have forgotten to prepare anything. What a bummer...



Oh, wait! I know! How about this...

Here's a picture of the Olentangy River, which separates OSU's central campus from its agricultural west campus. It's time for a free-write!!!! 

"Soft Waters"

      My eyes watch the ripples in the dirty water as the current moves all the river's contents along at a smooth pace. Atop my bridge, I watch the peaceful scene as geese congregate in the cool waters below. Oh, how I envy them and the ease with which they can coincide with the small waves. How I yearn for my childhood and the salty shores of the Pacific...

     Thoughts trail off into the warm winter air as the geese jump from their watery seats and take to the air, once more displaying something I don't have (something I can't have). 

      A sigh comes easily from between my lips. The world beyond either side of this bridge reeks of industry and the racket of motors. Only hear, in the middle of it all, should I find peace. Yet, still, leaning over the railing, I can't help but feel the sting of all which I don't have. "Stupid," I think as I smack my forehead against the railing as discipline for such idiotic thoughts. Regret soon floods me as my palm rubs my sore forehead. "Ow..." I mutter in half-disgust of myself.

      "Do you live in Morrill Tower as well?" she asks from the depths of my blind spot. I turn quickly to my right (so quickly, in fact, that I almost jump at the new sight). A girl, or young woman, my age dressed in army fatigues stares at me with a small, sweet smile and a humorous expression. 

      "Yeah..." I mutter, still in shock, as I stare at the small wonder before me. She giggles lightly and turns to the river with her hands grasping the metal railing, as mine had done only a short time before. 

      "It's so calm out here, kind of the one thing that makes living in the tower so great, ya know?" Now it's my turn to smile as I turn to face the direction her eyes are still focused on.

      "I couldn't have said it any better myself." An uproar comes from the water as a blue heron emerges from a small island on the river and flies off into the distant. 

      "So pretty," she mutters, watching the majestic bird's every move.

      "Yeah," I agree, for once finding something that I know the birds could never have. 

Is it fate or reality? The differences are hard to come by.


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