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Okay...this is the beginning to a piece of mine. I have more written. This is just kind of an introduction. The rest I have written is more like a story, with dialogue and such. Please, please, please reply. This isn't long, it won't take long to read. It just something I wrote down and comments are always welcome. It's completely different from the other things I write, but I like the story I have in my head all the same. Thanks- Sarah
She liked the way the sun filtered through the trees and created a dappled path for her. Though she wouldn’t admit it to those walking across the grounds with her, she liked to play a game with the sunlight. She would imagine that each time she stepped into the sunlight, she was all of the sudden back in the real world, but when passing under a tree, where the shade was heavier and the pools of light less, she would fall into a different world. She would exist in the few seconds that her stride took her to get back into the sun, as a princess, a warrior, a magistrate, a child. She would lose her focus thinking about what it would be like to live permanently in this world, not only in the shadows, but in broad daylight, where everyone could see what she was, who she truly was. She would tell herself that they would accept her for who she was, be it a secret agent, a fairy, a watermelon sales-woman. Shaking her head, falling out of step with them, she would sometimes find herself slowing down her pace, just so she could pretend for a split-second longer.
She would never tell them of this game. Only children played games with the sunlight, because they don’t have things to worry about like exams, and reputations, and truth and lies. The only thing they had to worry about was washing their hands before they ate supper, or holding tightly onto the rough, natural notches and thick branches of the oak trees.
But she was not a child.
She was a woman.
***
They sometimes looked at her oddly when she would make offhand, irrelevant comments, or get that lost-in-her-own-body look in her eyes. She didn’t seem to notice. They wondered that, if she did notice, would she even care?
She was brilliant, they knew that. She made the highest marks in all of her classes. When her professors handed back her essays and research papers, they would always have a fond expression on their faces, engraved with deep respect. They didn’t know what kind of things she wrote, because she never showed them her papers, or boasted about her grades. No, she would smile, or bring her eyebrows together in concentration, but she never let them read it. Even though they were insanely curious, they never asked. She might have lost some of her mysticism if they had. Her comments were always slow, and thoughtful. She didn’t speak much. They wanted her to speak. They wanted her to open her mouth and spill her wisdom onto them. Maybe they could soak up some of her enigmatic lure. However, if she spoke too much, it might leave her.
She was beautiful, they had eyes. Her black hair would fall into her face, and she would absentmindedly push it back, except for a wisp that always fell across her bright eyes. They’d never seen someone whose eyes were darker, hers were nearly black, but the best way to describe them was definitely bright. She would look up at them with a definite reason. Overly large irises, surrounded by overly large whites, framed by long, coffee colored lashes: they were like a child’s eyes, but they were alight with knowledge that a child could not possibly possess. She was slim in a healthy way. She had curves appropriate for her age, only nineteen, in all of the right places. She didn’t flaunt, and sometimes held herself with a lack of confidence that they couldn’t imagine her ever having. But it suited her. She would have been annoying and haughty if she had been confident.
They often wondered if she was involved in some type of magic, of potion making that made her so perfect. If anyone was capable of this, it would be her.
They often wondered why her name was “Jane,” unless the mother was blind, deaf, mute, and a little slow. She would had to have been to carry and give birth to the opposite of plain, and then christen her with the most ordinary name to every be put into the rotation of human names.
While they were discussing these things, they tended to be rather melodramatic.
Check the dates before you reply to threads, please. Try not to bump up old posts; this is 4 years old.
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Oh you made a my gloomy day of college lighten up. It was so real and so unreal in the same time,and it feel very natural...I don't know, it felt fluffy reading it ^_^. I enjoyed it very much, and I am grad I read this after I saw the title in the morning.
Oh! I love, love, loved this!! The sunlight idea, was brilliant. Sounds like something I would do myself. This story in its self is so innocent, and pure, it was just a breath of fresh air, thank you!
Thanks guys! After like, being up here two weeks or something, I didn't think I was going to get any replies, but when I came back, there were three!
OMFG GREG! I didn't think you were ever going to get on again. And when I read your comment, I didn't even realize it was you! *loves Greg to pieces*
DUM DUM DUM...here's the second part. There's ONE MORE part to it, but I don't like posting a lot at one time, because people are less likely to read it, and I personally find long pieces intimidating.
-Sarah
Jane found herself feeling fidgety. She stared into the eyes of the droning professor (his name was something like Dr. Jorge, even though she didn’t think he had an ounce of Spanish blood in him) and tapping her pen on the desk. Tap, tap. The guy to her right gave her an annoyed look, and she quit, but accidentally started to do it again after a few seconds. It was too quiet, except for someone snoring in the back. It was too still. Normally she liked quiet, still things, but not right now. She was considering just gathering up her things and taking a walk in the hot, late summer afternoon. She could nearly see the light blinding her eyes as she came out of the building; she could feel the heat pressing down on her. Sitting in the classroom, right below the air conditioning vent, she decided she wanted nothing more. While she was thinking these things, she moved. She grabbed her bag and pencils, and left the classroom quietly, Dr. Jorge barely glancing at her as she slammed the door on his class.
Once she was outside, the heat was a lot less appealing. She had worked up a bit of warmth in the excitement of rushing out the door only ten minutes into class. What had made her do that? She didn’t cause a disturbance, she already knew a bit about the business code of ethics, yet, she had never walked out of a class in her life, and she felt kind of, well, liberated. She felt a sense of heat rush to her face, and even though no one was around to look at her, she was glad it was hot as she was already flushed. It was embarrassing to get so excited over leaving a classroom.
She began walking across the expanse of the university grounds, her eyes falling onto unaware students lounging about in the courtyards, making out under trees, studying with their brows furrowed, sweat dripping off their noses and onto their books.
“Jane!”
She spun around at hearing her name. The voice was unfamiliar, the way he said it was not. It fell of his tongue with a practiced ease.
“Jane!” he said again, this time, less loudly. She found herself facing him, a young man she vaguely recognized.
“Yes?” her tone was a lot smoother than she felt. She felt nervous and shaky at the calling of her name. He was much too bold for her, she concluded.
“I…” he cut off, his smile faltered. His eyes were a stormy gray-blue. She caught them, and blinked rapidly without thinking of what exactly she was doing.
“How do you know me?” It wasn’t a harsh question, but a curious one. His eyes lit up slightly at her genuine curiosity.
“Matt. He’s in my advanced chemistry class. We’re partners, and, you kind of, came up. I’ve seen you around…” he cut off again. She was still searching his face. A trail of light brown freckles fell across his nose gracelessly; his hair was slightly damp and hung in loose, strawberry blonde tendrils around his face. She mused that he needed a haircut.
“Yeah, we went to St. Paul’s together. What’s your name?”
He cocked a sort of off center grin. “Oh, yeah.” Even though he was already flushed from the heat and his possible running, his face and ears turned bright red, and she could almost feel their heat. “Landon.” He extended a hand towards her, and she took it, trying not to grimace when she realized how sweaty it was.
“Jane Keller. No relation to Helen.” He smiled, but she had the faintest idea he didn’t think it was funny.
“I was, um…wondering…” He did the oddest thing. He straightened up a bit, but also seemed to withdraw from her. He slouched slightly, but as he grew taller, his chest seemed to sink in farther. “After the game Saturday, would you like to get some coffee?”
She smiled a pitying smile. “I don’t go to the football games.”
“All the better!” He tried to sound happy, enthusiastic, but she could tell his nerves had rattled. “I mean, I don’t go either, so we could just hang out at the Midnight Inn Café.” His eyebrow cocked, and so did hers.
“I’ve never been there. Are they any good?”
“Definitely. I really prefer them to Starbucks, and they’ve got all sorts of used books and DVDs there you can buy or trade. It’s a neat place.”
His face had lit up when he began talking about it. This is the exact reason she took him up on his offer. He smiled, and his body position lowered, but his chest was nearer to her. “Okay then! See you Saturday!”
She smiled, thinking about things other than coffee.
This is really quite lovely, and really very good. I really like the imagery. The character kinda reminds me of myself a little bit---a dreamer, a romantic, who never completely dwells in the real life, in teh here and now. It is almost uncanny just how similar your character and myself are. I applaud your very well done details, however, and the flow was very nice, and it had good syntax. Overall, very good.
Ooh, Sarah, I love this. I mean, really.
Your descriptions are so beautiful, and the thought of a college girl playing imagination games with the sun is so appealing because it sounds like something I would do. Right after I saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I walked around for about two days like I was on some huge secret mission or something.
I would definitely read more of this if you posted it. Awesome job.
Sarah, I think I'm in love with this character.
Those small instances of awkwardness and stumbling that clutter and color your work have never been more appropriate.... I want the story!
You should be on AIM more often.
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