Creative Writing Exercise B) Imagine a character has just learned that he/she has just won the lottery.

IMPORTANT: The goal is to describe not the character but the room (or general area) the character is inhabiting. DO NOT tell the reader that the character has just won the lottery.

*     *     *     *     *

It happened like The Big Bang.  First, there was nothing, or so it seemed.  Life was dull, worn and frayed at the edges like a faded old sweater.  I put it on.  I took it off.  I repeated.  The monotony of my beige life looked nothing like the golden words tossed around as confetti on Page Six of the New York Times.

In one split second, the planets aligned in a perfect sequence.  My lightning bolt landed, its wattage outweighing the odds of a life bursting by chance numerology.  Like a colourful piñata, the universe exploded with unparalleled possibilities, each candied experience spilling before me at my feet.

I didn’t know which to savour first.

The blue gummies sparkle with the promise of hot, sunny days lakeside in Muskoka cottage country.  They offer the sweet promise of a blueberry pie.  Watercraft toys bead the shore like juicy berries escaping on your plate.  It’s all gingham tablecloths and picnic baskets.  Iconic chairs dripped in the colours of popsicles lounge deck-side, beckoning for you to come sit and enjoy a local cider.

Under the deep, indigo skies of night, cottage windows dot the lake like fireflies captured in glass jars.  Escaping, they blink and fly to the heavens to join the milky way.  Again, I am reminded of blueberries flooding vanilla ice cream as they melt and swim on my plate.

The hard pink pieces of Double Bubble gum are individually wrapped in fun wax paper.  When I open one, I find a tiny taste of a Soho New York shopping spree.  It’s bright, happy colour promising a private fashion show at Kate Spade’s boutique.  The gum looks so sweet, yet it belies a loss of flavour gone far to soon.  I chew another, then another and jet set to Milan, Paris and Tokyo, constantly searching for the next spring craze.

Jolly Ranchers are the most fun.  Like a zoo in a box, they spill into my lap, filling it with every colour and flavour imagineable.  A philanthropist, I save each one.  Every horse.  Every dog.  Every fox.  Every sparrow.  Every cow.  I tuck them into my pocket, protecting them from the crumbling cookies.

Silver coins of chocolate roll up beside me.  They taste like the cozy security of hot chocolate, blanketing my tastebuds with rich, creamy thick and long-lasting comfort.  I feel like I’m wrapped in warmth, no chill will walk down my spine ever again.  Surely this is heaven?

Yet when I read the news, I realize that family is priceless.  Love can’t be bought.  I can’t rent peace.  There isn’t a sale on healthy lives.  I can’t replace my life with one off the rack.  How do you reframe and reflavour lifelong happiness?  I’m still learning.

The Fox

P.S.  Can you tell we’ve been studying similies & metaphors?  Gorgeously gooey pieces of poetry and prose which lodge themselves in your mouth like sentimental campfire s’mores.  Wash ’em down with a cold craft beer.  Hope you like my home writing!

I’ve been writing poetry, too, inspired by this poem:

Fog  by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

The Fox

Read the Fox blog:  Hear what the Fox really has to say

© 2018