Time of My Life
Atia Pasha
Professor Schlanger
ENGL 2307 Creative Writing (Distant Learning)
21 June 2011
Time of My Life
The lashes of my eyelids begin to separate as the light penetrates my vision with each blink. I wake strangely to the tall yellow grass and a slight welcoming breeze across my face. I glance over and see the home I grew up in 20 years ago and wonder is this a dream? The gray paint has faded away and the wood has begun decay. I can still see mama sitting on that porch breading my long black hair into a pair of long ladders with a white leftover string she saved from a package she received in the mail. Up at the buzzing of the alarm clock my life is filled with the hustle and bustle of the big apple, the glitz, the glam and the work that Wall Street requires. I run like a well oiled machine focusing on work and allowing it to consume my life yet yearning to jump like a gazelle through the fields filling them with laughter. How did I end up back here in Cedar Rapids, Iowa lying in the soft grass that surrounds every finger tip and toe nail? I can smell the Quaker Oats plant odor permeating every breath. A special smell when mixed with the fresh baked apple pie on the window ceil, I can see country, Mary the cow I used to milk as a child. She was so kind to me, she never tried to kick or run always mooed her way my way.
I bring my fingers to my eyes to wake up from this dream, but the urge to run through the fields back to mamas house overwhelms me, I go to open the palms of my hands and place them near my back but I can’t get up. I scream with every ounce of being and try to run to the home of my grandpa, nana, mama and daddy that I yearn desperately to play in. My screams for help go unheard in the vast quietness of the countryside. My mouth opens and my throat begins to vibrate but not a sound will travel over those soft and tall strands of grass to mama’s house. I try over and over to get up but cannot succeed. Get up Pasha! Get up Pasha we have a
Professor Schlanger
ENGL 2307 Creative Writing (Distant Learning)
21 June 2011
Time of My Life
The lashes of my eyelids begin to separate as the light penetrates my vision with each blink. I wake strangely to the tall yellow grass and a slight welcoming breeze across my face. I glance over and see the home I grew up in 20 years ago and wonder is this a dream? The gray paint has faded away and the wood has begun decay. I can still see mama sitting on that porch breading my long black hair into a pair of long ladders with a white leftover string she saved from a package she received in the mail. Up at the buzzing of the alarm clock my life is filled with the hustle and bustle of the big apple, the glitz, the glam and the work that Wall Street requires. I run like a well oiled machine focusing on work and allowing it to consume my life yet yearning to jump like a gazelle through the fields filling them with laughter. How did I end up back here in Cedar Rapids, Iowa lying in the soft grass that surrounds every finger tip and toe nail? I can smell the Quaker Oats plant odor permeating every breath. A special smell when mixed with the fresh baked apple pie on the window ceil, I can see country, Mary the cow I used to milk as a child. She was so kind to me, she never tried to kick or run always mooed her way my way.
I bring my fingers to my eyes to wake up from this dream, but the urge to run through the fields back to mamas house overwhelms me, I go to open the palms of my hands and place them near my back but I can’t get up. I scream with every ounce of being and try to run to the home of my grandpa, nana, mama and daddy that I yearn desperately to play in. My screams for help go unheard in the vast quietness of the countryside. My mouth opens and my throat begins to vibrate but not a sound will travel over those soft and tall strands of grass to mama’s house. I try over and over to get up but cannot succeed. Get up Pasha! Get up Pasha we have a