School’s back in session, and I’m back in a writing workshop where they provide me with prompts.
(Sweet, sweet prompts. I am lost without them.)
Yesterday my professor asked us to write 10 lines that started with the words “Something about…” and gave us about ten minutes to work. Here’s what I came up with:
Something about my new apartment
Something about all that space that’s just mine
Something about how most of the time it’s empty
Something about the old-person smell that must be permeating the walls from the woman next door
Something about the noise always going on, like hundreds of invisible, tiny airplanes dive-bombing in the kitchen
Something about having more closets than I can fill on my own
Something about filling the living room with Clementi instead because math and rhythm need space to work themselves out
Something about turning the lights off, one by one, on the path to my bedroom at night
Something about how blissfully quiet the darkness is
Something about how that darkness, somehow, is mine, too
