Response to Challenge #7
In response to Mistharael's Challenge:
Describe something from two different points of view, trying to "show" rather than "tell" us who the people are and important things about them, such as mood, important events that may be occurring in their life at present, etc.
Perspective One
She sighed heavily and glanced at the clock again, it was only a matter of seconds from the last she had checked. Time was stuck in some horrendous, cruel standstill, no matter how she willed the clock to move forward it continued at its supremely slow, snail-like pace. Marissa smoothed the satiny skirt of her dress again and shooed the cat away. She could hear anxious footsteps through the wall behind her interspersed with the sounds of sporadic scrubbing. Marissa sighed again and tucked an escaped hair back into place. “Just a few more moments.” She thought dejectedly to herself, trying to push from her mind what had happened last time. “He has to be different.” Marissa told herself repeatedly and scratched her poor cat rather roughly behind the ears.
Apparently she had managed to distract herself rather well with the antics of the sitcom on the television. Normally she didn’t pay any attention to the show but since her father had it on, and there was nothing better to do than watch it or the clock, she found herself quite engrossed. The clock above the mantle began its steady, melodic chime for the hour. Marissa was snapped from her trance and she resumed her watch at the clock and out the front window. This time the clock sped time by with a terrifying reality, as slow as it had been before it was now fast. “He just ran into some traffic.” She told herself, but still let the cat onto her lap anyway, a few cat hairs wouldn’t hurt anything, even though his dark grey fur would alarmingly stand out on the pale lilac of the dress.
Marissa glanced excitedly out the window when she caught a glimmer of a noise, the crunching of gravel, tires on the driveway. She dropped her head sadly on her hand as she recognized the little blue car as her grandparents. “It’s already started.” She lamented loudly in her head. “It’s happening again….” That annoying, doubtful part of her was rearing its horrendous head again. Her grandparents knocked at the door and it was simply more than Marissa could stand. He was almost forty-five minutes late, the knocking should have been him. She leapt to her feet and thundered up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her when she finally made it there.
Marissa flung her heeled shoes angrily into her closet and they disappeared behind her laundry basket. She quickly changed into her flannel jammies and tossed the dress inside as well. Life simply wasn’t fair, she knew it wasn’t but still she couldn’t help hoping that someday it might. Wiping the tears from her face Marissa opened her door again a crack to let poor Skittle in. The cat slipped into the room and quickly claimed his favorite spot on the bed. She curled up next to him, listening to him purr.
Perspective Two
Mary scrubbed at the grease that was stubbornly stuck to the frying pan. The grease simply refused to come off, sighing Mary left it to soak and started drying some of the dishes in the drainer. Her eyes drifted to the chicken-shaped clock above the stove. “He should be here any moment now.” She stretched to her tip-toes to tuck the cake plate back into the cupboard. A moment later the cover followed, and then it was back to the stubborn grease on the pan. This time it finally lifted away and the dishes could finally be done.
Mary set about busying herself tidying up the kitchen. First sweeping and dusting the knick-knacks and various other chores that were surprisingly overdue. Butterflies flew in her stomach for her daughter and the best way to squash them was to keep busy. “I haven’t cleaned Skittles dishes in awhile.” She told her self and dumped the kibble from the food dish back into the storage bin. The dishes were spotless, Marissa had been washing Skittle’s things and taking care of him for years by herself, but Mary needed something to do with her hands. Skittle skittered into the room at the sound of his ceramic dishes being moved. The cat perched himself on the counter and blinked his mismatched eyes at her, watching her every move. With one green eye and one blue eye Skittle supervised her every action, almost as if he were saying that Marissa did a better job. “That ridiculous cat.” Mary thought to herself as she dried the dishes.
It didn’t seem all that long ago, even though it was quite some time ago, that Skittle had found his way into their home. The last kitten in a cardboard box at the school carnival. “Mommy, please!” An eight year old Marissa had pleaded. “Please let me take him home. We match!” She had held up the fuzzy grey kitten next to her face, sure enough their eyes matched perfectly, one green, one blue. She had tried to tell Marissa that they couldn’t keep a cat in the house, it would scratch the furniture, but somehow instead the words, “I don’t see why not,” had found their way out instead. Mary poured more kibble into the dish and shook her head as Skittle turned his nose up at it. He only accepted food from Marissa.
Mary poked her head into the living room when she heard a knock at the door, granted the boy was late, but at least he showed. She lowered her eyes as she watched Marissa dive up the stairs and her parents come in the front door. “Not again.” She sighed and pulled a bowl from the cupboard and an ice cream scoop from the utensil drawer. Mary hated making these sundaes, it was almost become a ritual.
Describe something from two different points of view, trying to "show" rather than "tell" us who the people are and important things about them, such as mood, important events that may be occurring in their life at present, etc.
Perspective One
She sighed heavily and glanced at the clock again, it was only a matter of seconds from the last she had checked. Time was stuck in some horrendous, cruel standstill, no matter how she willed the clock to move forward it continued at its supremely slow, snail-like pace. Marissa smoothed the satiny skirt of her dress again and shooed the cat away. She could hear anxious footsteps through the wall behind her interspersed with the sounds of sporadic scrubbing. Marissa sighed again and tucked an escaped hair back into place. “Just a few more moments.” She thought dejectedly to herself, trying to push from her mind what had happened last time. “He has to be different.” Marissa told herself repeatedly and scratched her poor cat rather roughly behind the ears.
Apparently she had managed to distract herself rather well with the antics of the sitcom on the television. Normally she didn’t pay any attention to the show but since her father had it on, and there was nothing better to do than watch it or the clock, she found herself quite engrossed. The clock above the mantle began its steady, melodic chime for the hour. Marissa was snapped from her trance and she resumed her watch at the clock and out the front window. This time the clock sped time by with a terrifying reality, as slow as it had been before it was now fast. “He just ran into some traffic.” She told herself, but still let the cat onto her lap anyway, a few cat hairs wouldn’t hurt anything, even though his dark grey fur would alarmingly stand out on the pale lilac of the dress.
Marissa glanced excitedly out the window when she caught a glimmer of a noise, the crunching of gravel, tires on the driveway. She dropped her head sadly on her hand as she recognized the little blue car as her grandparents. “It’s already started.” She lamented loudly in her head. “It’s happening again….” That annoying, doubtful part of her was rearing its horrendous head again. Her grandparents knocked at the door and it was simply more than Marissa could stand. He was almost forty-five minutes late, the knocking should have been him. She leapt to her feet and thundered up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her when she finally made it there.
Marissa flung her heeled shoes angrily into her closet and they disappeared behind her laundry basket. She quickly changed into her flannel jammies and tossed the dress inside as well. Life simply wasn’t fair, she knew it wasn’t but still she couldn’t help hoping that someday it might. Wiping the tears from her face Marissa opened her door again a crack to let poor Skittle in. The cat slipped into the room and quickly claimed his favorite spot on the bed. She curled up next to him, listening to him purr.
Perspective Two
Mary scrubbed at the grease that was stubbornly stuck to the frying pan. The grease simply refused to come off, sighing Mary left it to soak and started drying some of the dishes in the drainer. Her eyes drifted to the chicken-shaped clock above the stove. “He should be here any moment now.” She stretched to her tip-toes to tuck the cake plate back into the cupboard. A moment later the cover followed, and then it was back to the stubborn grease on the pan. This time it finally lifted away and the dishes could finally be done.
Mary set about busying herself tidying up the kitchen. First sweeping and dusting the knick-knacks and various other chores that were surprisingly overdue. Butterflies flew in her stomach for her daughter and the best way to squash them was to keep busy. “I haven’t cleaned Skittles dishes in awhile.” She told her self and dumped the kibble from the food dish back into the storage bin. The dishes were spotless, Marissa had been washing Skittle’s things and taking care of him for years by herself, but Mary needed something to do with her hands. Skittle skittered into the room at the sound of his ceramic dishes being moved. The cat perched himself on the counter and blinked his mismatched eyes at her, watching her every move. With one green eye and one blue eye Skittle supervised her every action, almost as if he were saying that Marissa did a better job. “That ridiculous cat.” Mary thought to herself as she dried the dishes.
It didn’t seem all that long ago, even though it was quite some time ago, that Skittle had found his way into their home. The last kitten in a cardboard box at the school carnival. “Mommy, please!” An eight year old Marissa had pleaded. “Please let me take him home. We match!” She had held up the fuzzy grey kitten next to her face, sure enough their eyes matched perfectly, one green, one blue. She had tried to tell Marissa that they couldn’t keep a cat in the house, it would scratch the furniture, but somehow instead the words, “I don’t see why not,” had found their way out instead. Mary poured more kibble into the dish and shook her head as Skittle turned his nose up at it. He only accepted food from Marissa.
Mary poked her head into the living room when she heard a knock at the door, granted the boy was late, but at least he showed. She lowered her eyes as she watched Marissa dive up the stairs and her parents come in the front door. “Not again.” She sighed and pulled a bowl from the cupboard and an ice cream scoop from the utensil drawer. Mary hated making these sundaes, it was almost become a ritual.