Khrysty
New Member
- Messages
- 2,650
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- Oregon, IL
As some of you know, I'm an English major at Augustana College and my goal is to enter the MFA program at Iowa State (one of the best in the country). This summer, I have the opportunity to join some of the best American and Eastern European writers in a writing workshop for a month. This will GREATLY increase my chances of getting accepted into the MFA program of my choice. To prepare, I'm trying to get back in the habit of writing anything and everything. I thought I'd post this because it's a bit amusing. It's a day in the life of Clarabelle, my little SHTCTB who, through a lack of foresight, has been impregnated by Basil, my snow blizzard. She is small and young, but has stuck through this and is now nearly finished with the first leg of her enormous task: what appears to be a full season of egg laying. So, without further ado, here is her story:
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Belle, Personified: a day in the more recent life of Clarabelle
A loud crash from somewhere beyond her walls vibrates her home and disturbs her sleep. She opens one eye, then the other, peering from her cave, through the transparent walls of her home, alert. Large eyes meet her own. She freezes. After a moment, remembering that these eyes never cause her harm, she moves as if to exit the cave. Delicately placing one foreleg at the entrance, she allows her snout to be seen, eyes wide, again wary of predators. Assured of her safety, she ambles ungainly to her dish with more effort than she’s used to, her strange new shape bumping and scraping as she goes. Tiny hands firmly clutch the rim as she leans down to watch her prey twist and tumble in the dust. For few long seconds, she is poised to strike.
Slowly her demeanor changes and her body releases tension. Hers is not the expression of a hunter. Not anymore. Resigned, she merely stares for a moment and licks her eye. She’s hungry but the weight of her ever-swelling abdomen this past week has proven too much for her small body to handle. There is no room for food. She gives one last wanting look to the dish before she unclenches her sharp toes and allows herself to slide back down. The hunger will subside; she has a task to do. She stalks the perimeter of her home, stopping at corners to climb up and peer into the outside world. Higher and higher she attempts to climb, claws slipping on the smooth surface.
She’s been outside before. There’s warmth somewhere, dark too, but she can’t manage an escape on her own. She falls, making an unexpected skitter. Large eyes look up at her from below. She looks down at them a moment, ponders them, then gets back to work. If she can’t climb the walls, she must find a safe place here. She looks around: a small cave, a larger one, a long one: all dark.
One by one she enters them and curls around herself. One is warm and she closes her eyes for a moment. She’s tired. She would like a rest. But no, so much to do. Grumpily, she heads to the next cave. Too cold, too big, this won’t do. She exits the way she came and pauses for a minute in the open space. She turns to consider the long cave. It’s wrong too, she decides. Her need for a rest is too great and she finds a dark corner to settle in. Making herself as flat as possible, she lays her head and aching abdomen down on the warm floor and closes her eyes.
A short period of time goes by before she’s up again. She discovers the large plot of earth toward the right corner of her home. It’s warm here, she remembers. Dark and safe too. She stretches her body like a cat and climbs up into the box, her feet treading softly, for the first time, on shredded coconut husk. Something deep within her awakens as her claws catch the first bit of warm, moist fibers. She remembers! Digging furiously, she looks around for the right spot. The right temperature. The right humidity. She has to find a place where it won’t change. It has to be the best place. Not even the large eyes must see her, though by now she thinks of them as an attribute of the outside world and worth none of her immediate concern. Her concern, she remembers as her back end begins to tense, is her offspring.
---
Belle, Personified: a day in the more recent life of Clarabelle
A loud crash from somewhere beyond her walls vibrates her home and disturbs her sleep. She opens one eye, then the other, peering from her cave, through the transparent walls of her home, alert. Large eyes meet her own. She freezes. After a moment, remembering that these eyes never cause her harm, she moves as if to exit the cave. Delicately placing one foreleg at the entrance, she allows her snout to be seen, eyes wide, again wary of predators. Assured of her safety, she ambles ungainly to her dish with more effort than she’s used to, her strange new shape bumping and scraping as she goes. Tiny hands firmly clutch the rim as she leans down to watch her prey twist and tumble in the dust. For few long seconds, she is poised to strike.
Slowly her demeanor changes and her body releases tension. Hers is not the expression of a hunter. Not anymore. Resigned, she merely stares for a moment and licks her eye. She’s hungry but the weight of her ever-swelling abdomen this past week has proven too much for her small body to handle. There is no room for food. She gives one last wanting look to the dish before she unclenches her sharp toes and allows herself to slide back down. The hunger will subside; she has a task to do. She stalks the perimeter of her home, stopping at corners to climb up and peer into the outside world. Higher and higher she attempts to climb, claws slipping on the smooth surface.
She’s been outside before. There’s warmth somewhere, dark too, but she can’t manage an escape on her own. She falls, making an unexpected skitter. Large eyes look up at her from below. She looks down at them a moment, ponders them, then gets back to work. If she can’t climb the walls, she must find a safe place here. She looks around: a small cave, a larger one, a long one: all dark.
One by one she enters them and curls around herself. One is warm and she closes her eyes for a moment. She’s tired. She would like a rest. But no, so much to do. Grumpily, she heads to the next cave. Too cold, too big, this won’t do. She exits the way she came and pauses for a minute in the open space. She turns to consider the long cave. It’s wrong too, she decides. Her need for a rest is too great and she finds a dark corner to settle in. Making herself as flat as possible, she lays her head and aching abdomen down on the warm floor and closes her eyes.
A short period of time goes by before she’s up again. She discovers the large plot of earth toward the right corner of her home. It’s warm here, she remembers. Dark and safe too. She stretches her body like a cat and climbs up into the box, her feet treading softly, for the first time, on shredded coconut husk. Something deep within her awakens as her claws catch the first bit of warm, moist fibers. She remembers! Digging furiously, she looks around for the right spot. The right temperature. The right humidity. She has to find a place where it won’t change. It has to be the best place. Not even the large eyes must see her, though by now she thinks of them as an attribute of the outside world and worth none of her immediate concern. Her concern, she remembers as her back end begins to tense, is her offspring.
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