Fire!
There’s nothing like a calm session of expository writing. I have recently showered; my mind is calm and my long, stiff fingers ready to tap-tap-tap at the keys, while my ego is hoping to vomit inspiration and elegance with the ease of a bulimic. I take a few sips of cold water, put my feet up on my desk and begin writing. Though the room is somewhat antediluvian, it’s my own and therefore comfortable. I’ve got my sandals on the floor right next to some books; it can be a mine-field at times, but I manage to clean it up for the weekends.
Just as I’m about to get into a real swing of things in terms of writing, I hear a repeating squeal echo through the halls, sounding as if Rosie the Robot had been giving birth. I try to ignore it, but I soon discover that it is truly impossible to let words flow through your fingertips under these conditions. I stand up, decide to ditch my keys and, in an uncharacteristic move, leave the door unlock as I walk outside, following the crowd to the parking lot.
Being a local recluse, I don’t recognize any of the tenants standing out here. Had I known this would’ve happened on such a cold night, I would have decided against wearing basketball shorts and a generic Hanes T-shirt. “Brrr.”
“Can I have your attention?!” I hear a voice call out. I see the guy, who I suppose is in some position out authority despite the lack of any charismatic presence and/or a uniform.
“Yes, this was a fire drill and ya’ll did a great job. You can go back to your rooms now.”
A collective groan filled the cold air in such a way you could almost see it, and we all marched back, letting it leave a trail like smoke from a cigarette.
Alex
Just as I’m about to get into a real swing of things in terms of writing, I hear a repeating squeal echo through the halls, sounding as if Rosie the Robot had been giving birth. I try to ignore it, but I soon discover that it is truly impossible to let words flow through your fingertips under these conditions. I stand up, decide to ditch my keys and, in an uncharacteristic move, leave the door unlock as I walk outside, following the crowd to the parking lot.
Being a local recluse, I don’t recognize any of the tenants standing out here. Had I known this would’ve happened on such a cold night, I would have decided against wearing basketball shorts and a generic Hanes T-shirt. “Brrr.”
“Can I have your attention?!” I hear a voice call out. I see the guy, who I suppose is in some position out authority despite the lack of any charismatic presence and/or a uniform.
“Yes, this was a fire drill and ya’ll did a great job. You can go back to your rooms now.”
A collective groan filled the cold air in such a way you could almost see it, and we all marched back, letting it leave a trail like smoke from a cigarette.
Alex