So i wanted to work on my descriptive writing and I am author ADD so I tend to write in short stories. This one is sort of depressing but I think it gives a very clear picture of the protagonist. :) Stay wonderful!
~Singing Ginger
“Shower” Short Story
She sat in the small closet that passed for a dorm room shower, letting the water pour over her body. She watched as it trickled down her neck and flowed over her bare breasts, it rained down her legs and flowed off of her toes down into the drain. She realized that even though her body remained perfectly intact something was hurt more than any broken bone. His rejection had led to her to a far worse place than any hospital bed or medical table, she was alone now. It hurt, fuck it hurt. A life time of warring between the school counselors saying she could be a strong woman all on her own, and the magazines that said her worth could only truly be recognized if she was in a relationship had finally ended in one painful conclusion. She wouldn’t die if she was alone but she would be left hurt and broken. How could she do this? How had any woman ever done this? It hurt like it would never stop, it hurt like the pain would just keep rolling over her like the water from the faucet head. She pulled her knees into her body and inspected herself. Her boobs where a full C cup on a smaller D cup body. Her belly undulated twice before dipping down into a full head of curly red hair. Her thighs were dotted with the occasional in grown follicle and amassed the majority of her weight. They evened out into what she considered her wonderfully proportioned calves that had managed to stay tight even after the softball that had sculpted them that way had ended. Her feet lacked an arch, which took away some of the gracefulness normally afforded to that part of the body. Overall she was a slightly fitter than typical big girl. She would not catch glances on the street, she would not be approached at bars. Her beauty would only be recognized through her personality, her personality would be stifled by the rejection of her body type in what society defined as “pretty” which again left her here, in the shower, alone. Why would anyone risk this? What drove her to put herself out there when it could end in this? Was it the hope that at some point she would either find the person who wouldn’t land her in the shower or was it that at some point she would give up and no longer care? That a shower would go back to just being a shower and not a place to hide her tears. As her own faucets opened up to their fullest and the goblets snaked down the landscape of her face to mix with the rivers flowing over her body she wished for it all to end in some other land but the lonely. She wished there was a pill she could take to make it stop, to make the gut wrenching feeling twisting her insides together to untangle, to untwist, to let her go on living. To get her out of the freaking shower. As her eyes emptied the rest of their contents into the drain she stood herself up and once again. The unfortunate thing was that there was no cure, there was no pill and that unless she was otherwise taken to dying she would indeed keep on living. The second horrible conclusion she came to was that she was far from the first and far from the last person on earth to ever feel this way and that the only real thing she could do about it would be to wait until it went away. She turned the nozzle to cold and felt the change wash over her. She wiped her eyes (even though there was no real reason for that) and then turned the water off. She stepped out of the shower into a warm fuzzy towel, wrapped her head in a second towel and walked out of her bathroom and into her life once again.
re is what has been up as of late: I joined a crew team...okay well if i am being truly honest with myself it wasn't really a crew team it was more of a crew lesson. I am learning how to row. This is mostly due to the fact that, as previously stated, I am not so good with the whole stay on top of the work out thing, but this way I have to work out because i am in a class, and there are other people expecting me to be there. The end result in this particular class sign up is that I join the college club crew in the fall, and then maybe be a novice on their actual team at some point or another...and then maybe get really good...and get on a bigger team...and go to the Olympics...and win a gold medal...and get to meet the Hamm brothers...so yeah relatively realistic expectation i would think. :)
the next best thing. So I have decided to donate my plasma for $15.00 and hour (the lady on the phone said it would be about 1.5 hours each visit and that i would get paid about $30.00....so yeah) I have been warned that this is a bad idea and that it is going to be painful and that i should think of some better way to make money, but I think I am going to give this a shot. I will make sure to keep all you special people out there updated on my adventure.
am thinking of volunteering some of my time at the hospital. I figured this would be a pseudo easy process and that i would just walk in fill out some forms, maybe get my picture taken and then some one in scrubs would hand me a baby or two and I would be set. Oh no my friends, nothing in this world is that easy any more. I have to fill out a application, get references, come in for an interview, complete and background check and then sign forms that commit my time for however many months. All of this and all I really wanted to do was hold babies. I didn't think that would be too much to ask but apparently a background check is needed before parents will trust me with their newborns...okay maybe they do have a point. Hope all is well in cyber land!
I sit here having hugged the last of my friends good bye and looking out onto the pouring rain and I realize how much I will miss this place when it is gone. I have moved all of my earthly possessions out of this tiny hole in the wall I have called a home, placed them in boxes, swept them under the futon, thrown them into the garbage room and must now return to a place that I love, but that has become more alien to me than I thought possible. This is the last wall between the “real world” and myself and it is times like these when the aging process and the reality of it grows heavy on my shoulders. I will age, my friends will come and go, places will come and go, and nothing will stay the same for any longer than it takes for me to grasp the edge of it. I sit in an emptied dorm room and look out onto the same damn pine tree that has been my unchangeable company for the past 9 months. I think about the memories of this past year and realize that my thinking on them in this room, with this storm outside, is a memory in of itself. That there is no true end just continuous living until we die, and who knows? Maybe after death is when the true living begins. I will miss my friends. But it is this time; the time knowing that I miss them even though we will all return, that gives a daunting foreshadow to a time in the not so distant future when we will leave without a round trip ticket, the time when I will say goodbye to those around me with no assurance that they will boomarang back into my embrace. How life changes every day. It makes me sad and yet it makes me happy to have been able to spend this time with the people I have grown to love over this past year. I thank you all for your amazingness, I will see you soon and will love you dearly till then.
~The Singing Ginger
he picture isn't clear enough; it is a peace dove on her lower left back. You can't really see it but it is holding a green olive branch. Sam's explanation for this tattoo is that she has "had enough war in my life, and now I want a little peace." I think it is amazing and I can't wait to get mine!