June 14, 2010

Monday Morning Memory

Since I so enjoyed the little trip down memory lane regarding socks in the pool, I thought I'd share another random memory. Maybe I'll make it a thing: every Monday morning, post a random memory.

In 10th grade creative writing, I wrote a poem about a homeless man dying on a bench one winter morning. It was called "All But One." Every stanza ended with "all but one." It was fancy literary device, and I was quite proud out it. The last stanza told about how everyone woke up from their warm beds that morning. All but one. My friends thought it was so awesome, it made them all cry, and they demanded my teacher read it immediately. The next day, our lesson in creative writing was about avoiding sentimentality in writing. He urged us, at this stage of our writing at least, to avoid topics like dead babies, car accidents, and homeless people. The message didn't fully take, in high school I wrote stories about a girl's mom who had an affair then died, an old woman who sat alone in a sad corner forgotten by her family, and two kids who almost died as a direct result of defacing a haunted tree. But I have never written another poem or story about a homeless man.

5 comments:

Jilly said...

The one about the kids almost dying for defacing a haunted tree doesn't sound sentimental...it's sounds AWESOME.

MORAL OF THE STORY: VANDALISM PISSES OFF THE DEAD

Jamie said...

It WAS pretty awesome. You see, unbeknownst to the kids, the tree was a tombstone for several young Union soldiers killed by a Confederate sympathizer on their way home from the Civil War. Those Civil War kids had decided to deface the Confederate man's house with pro-Union graffiti. (Go Lincoln! Stovepipe hats RULE! Your mom freed the slaves! ...you know, typical pro-Union taunting.) They didn't realize he was home, and in a fit of rage (What did you say about my mom?!) he killed them all. Then he felt guilty and buried them by a tree near his house, and carved their initials into the tree, making it a tombstone. So, when the kids in present day carved their initials into it, they started to slowly die.

So the real moral of the story: VANDALISM KILLS YOU.

Jilly said...

SUB-MORAL: Stovepipe hats RULE!

clairesaunders said...

Hi-love mom

clairesaunders said...

please publish-you are so talented!