Un autre histoire pour Kristen...
I had to write the same thing in three different points of view. It's the begining of the story I will complete for my big assignment.
“It’s a shame that everything winds up breaking when you’re around.”
Virginia opened the lid of the kitchen trash can and dumped the destroyed remainders of a ceramic infant into it. She stared at it for a moment, just standing above the can and keeping the lid open. Perfectly white little pieces littering the top of spoiled food and other broken items. She wanted to find some meaning in it, but just released a heavy sigh and turned to wash her hands in the sink.
“We really ought to find another home for you. Somewhere where they can tend to your needs better.” Virginia turned to dry her hands, and sitting behind her was the culprit of the terrible crime.
Winky, the one-eyed cat, sat on the linoleum floor, licking her feline lips while looking around rather absent-mindedly. She appeared rather unabashed by the remarks Virginia had been making, or the even the slightest bit guilty about what she had done. When the small, white, ceramic statue of the infant playing in the snow had fallen, she didn’t even run at the sound of its shattering. He sat pondering the various geometric patterns and shapes that its pieces had created. Virginia had witnessed the whole thing.
“I wish he wouldn’t bring home such hopeless cases all the time.” She finished drying her hands and turned on the oven light. She bent down, the weight of her larger frame almost too much for her knees, and looked inside at the rising cake she had been baking. (The kitchen was remarkably clean for someone to think she had been baking at all.)
“Almost done,” she half-sang. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Isn’t there something better to do than sit there staring at me?”
Winky just let the one eye sit half open and continue to follow Virginia around.
* * * * *
I sat under the kitchen table, just trying to ignore her incessant yelling. I was in the same room as her, after all.
“It’s a shame that everything winds up breaking when you’re around.”
Indeed, that is a shame, I thought. It is such a shame that you should have to move your substantial girth outside the confines of your kitchen.
I hated these days. The days where he went to work, and I had to sustain sanity while this preposterously large woman talked aloud about all of the reasons she was so terribly dissatisfied with everything. I wanted no part in her self-loathing, but I had very little choice. The house was small and her booming voice carried to where ever I may have been. It was also my misfortune that due to the way the house was built, that all the good, warm sunlight came in through the kitchen in the mid-morning hours.
“We really ought to find another home for you. Somewhere where they can tend to your needs better.”
On that remark, I decided it was time to make my appearance. Perhaps she would stop speaking to intolerably loud if I was obviously near by. She turned, and saw me staring. She stopped immediately, her fear evident in her eyes. There was something about me that caused her alarm, and although I was aware of my short-comings I never would have thought it would frighten her.
“I wish he wouldn’t bring home such hopeless cases all the time.”
Well, he certainly got off to a good start with you, didn’t he?
* * * * *
“It’s a shame that everything winds up breaking when you’re around.”
I hoped that maybe if I said something cruel enough, he would find his way into somebody else’s home and go a break their things. I picked up the last remains of the broken ceramic statue I had gotten at my wedding and went to put them in the trash can. Piles of things that had been broken in the past few days just lay in there, useless and mangled. It was like a very depressing casserole. I looked at it for what seemed like hours, and then realized I was far too busy to be standing around holding open trash cans. I went to the sink to wash my hands.
“We really ought to find another home for you. Somewhere where they can tend to your needs better.”
Or, I thought as I turned around, you could just leave on your own.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was right behind me. (He had a unique way of just appearing at his own whim, even when it was clear others did not want him around.) However, it surprised me as it always did. He just sat there, staring at me with his one eye. It was rather unsettling.
“I wish he wouldn’t bring home such hopeless cases all the time.”
That was no exaggeration. It seemed like every other week my dear husband would have a creature with some sort of handicap in tow when he came home from work. How a man could come from an office building, down a highway, and into a suburb and always manage to find these animals was beyond my means of comprehension.
“It’s a shame that everything winds up breaking when you’re around.”
Virginia opened the lid of the kitchen trash can and dumped the destroyed remainders of a ceramic infant into it. She stared at it for a moment, just standing above the can and keeping the lid open. Perfectly white little pieces littering the top of spoiled food and other broken items. She wanted to find some meaning in it, but just released a heavy sigh and turned to wash her hands in the sink.
“We really ought to find another home for you. Somewhere where they can tend to your needs better.” Virginia turned to dry her hands, and sitting behind her was the culprit of the terrible crime.
Winky, the one-eyed cat, sat on the linoleum floor, licking her feline lips while looking around rather absent-mindedly. She appeared rather unabashed by the remarks Virginia had been making, or the even the slightest bit guilty about what she had done. When the small, white, ceramic statue of the infant playing in the snow had fallen, she didn’t even run at the sound of its shattering. He sat pondering the various geometric patterns and shapes that its pieces had created. Virginia had witnessed the whole thing.
“I wish he wouldn’t bring home such hopeless cases all the time.” She finished drying her hands and turned on the oven light. She bent down, the weight of her larger frame almost too much for her knees, and looked inside at the rising cake she had been baking. (The kitchen was remarkably clean for someone to think she had been baking at all.)
“Almost done,” she half-sang. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Isn’t there something better to do than sit there staring at me?”
Winky just let the one eye sit half open and continue to follow Virginia around.
* * * * *
I sat under the kitchen table, just trying to ignore her incessant yelling. I was in the same room as her, after all.
“It’s a shame that everything winds up breaking when you’re around.”
Indeed, that is a shame, I thought. It is such a shame that you should have to move your substantial girth outside the confines of your kitchen.
I hated these days. The days where he went to work, and I had to sustain sanity while this preposterously large woman talked aloud about all of the reasons she was so terribly dissatisfied with everything. I wanted no part in her self-loathing, but I had very little choice. The house was small and her booming voice carried to where ever I may have been. It was also my misfortune that due to the way the house was built, that all the good, warm sunlight came in through the kitchen in the mid-morning hours.
“We really ought to find another home for you. Somewhere where they can tend to your needs better.”
On that remark, I decided it was time to make my appearance. Perhaps she would stop speaking to intolerably loud if I was obviously near by. She turned, and saw me staring. She stopped immediately, her fear evident in her eyes. There was something about me that caused her alarm, and although I was aware of my short-comings I never would have thought it would frighten her.
“I wish he wouldn’t bring home such hopeless cases all the time.”
Well, he certainly got off to a good start with you, didn’t he?
* * * * *
“It’s a shame that everything winds up breaking when you’re around.”
I hoped that maybe if I said something cruel enough, he would find his way into somebody else’s home and go a break their things. I picked up the last remains of the broken ceramic statue I had gotten at my wedding and went to put them in the trash can. Piles of things that had been broken in the past few days just lay in there, useless and mangled. It was like a very depressing casserole. I looked at it for what seemed like hours, and then realized I was far too busy to be standing around holding open trash cans. I went to the sink to wash my hands.
“We really ought to find another home for you. Somewhere where they can tend to your needs better.”
Or, I thought as I turned around, you could just leave on your own.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was right behind me. (He had a unique way of just appearing at his own whim, even when it was clear others did not want him around.) However, it surprised me as it always did. He just sat there, staring at me with his one eye. It was rather unsettling.
“I wish he wouldn’t bring home such hopeless cases all the time.”
That was no exaggeration. It seemed like every other week my dear husband would have a creature with some sort of handicap in tow when he came home from work. How a man could come from an office building, down a highway, and into a suburb and always manage to find these animals was beyond my means of comprehension.