Click click click, even as I sit in the dining room I can hear the invasive noises of K’s toys, teaching her the alphabet, teaching her to make noise to keep herself from being lonely while I pay attention to the other details in this room. It was quiet until the very moment I sat down to write but now the swinging pirate music echoes off the plaster walls. Still, over the sound of the singing pirate and the click of Ripper’s claws on the scarred hardwood floor I’m drawn into the window, tattered sheers clouding my neighbors driveway hang down to the floor, the corners of it littered with dust and crumbs. You’d think I hadn’t swept it in a week, and you’d be right.
The table I sit at though, shows no sign of neglect, it’s scattered with today’s musings, a bottle of water, a cherry coke (the first of many I will drink today and regret) and my laptop. It’s almost always here, warm from use with its quiet hum a comforting white noise. It isn’t a tidy prospect writing in the dining room. The over sized and scratched wood table sits in the center of the room overcrowded with chairs, so my computer cable must stretch halfway across the room as I try to finish up one more thing before I clear away for lunchtime. A lunch that will no doubt leave new crumbs on the old wood floor and bits of peanut butter on the papers I carelessly leave behind.
In the class I’m taking we have assignments we’re asked to share with the class and we have practice pieces we write during our lesson. Since those practice pieces will likely rot in computer memory hell otherwise, I’ve decided to share some of them here. when they don’t suck. too much.
There were two practice pieces in our 2nd lesson. The first (which you just read) was to describe the room I was writing in. Tomorrow I’ll post the 2nd practice piece which stems from this exercise.
xoxo – CamiKaos