Daily Posts-Memory Revisited

Noise: The sound of children laughing and playing on a playground seems like any normal day. The setting is outside-wide open fields, half cast, partly sunny. Movement: There are children running and chasing each other, swings are flying up towards the sky, children are moving fast downwards on slides. You cant decipher any phrases in particular, but you can hear imminent laughter and giddy voices chanting. Suddenly the sky shudders. These storms are typical here in the south during hurricane season, and seem to sneak up on you fast and with tremendous strength. First the wind grows, and then when it seems to develop enough speed it seems to swallow everything in sight. It begins to whistle and then turns into a shrill wail, droning out the voices of small children as they lower to slow murmurs. Laughter turns into screams. Everywhere teachers and chaperones are trying to gather the children into small groups. It appears as if it may rain any minute and that it will wash away everything. A small group of children are too far to hear where a teacher is directing every one to go for cover. It seems the school building has moved farther away since they last saw it, but this is only because the storm makes every thing harder.

Scene: A girl about the age of 7 or 8 looks at her friends who are all crying. They are panicking and seem too scared to know what to do next. The girl starts to get anxious. She is irritated by everything around her. The storm is reaching its peak by now. There is so much commotion and loud noises every where, she starts to shake. She wants to isolate herself. She feels as though her head is about to burst. She clenches her fists and squeezes her eyes shut. She counts to ten. When she opens her eyes she finds herself safe. She is in her bedroom, laying in her bed. As she tries to make sense of the sequence of events she cant bring herself to believe that this was all just a bad dream. She decides she has to go back, she has to go back to the storm to save her friends. She lays back on her pillow and closes her eyes. She counts to ten. She thinks she can go back and tell everyone to just imagine themselves back in their homes and that they too can escape. She tries really hard to return. She clamps her lips. Beams of sweat start to form on her forehead. She concentrates so hard that she starts to get dizzy from staring at the inside of her eyelids. Seconds pass by that seem like hours. She opens her eyes. She comes to herself. She is no longer a little girl anymore at the playground. She is aware that she is in a vaguely familiar room. It's a basement of a school building. She hears voices. She realizes she is not alone but sitting in a circle of other people. She is sitting in a class room where every one is having a discussion. The discussion seems to be about writing. The instructor is particularly intriguing. She speaks about how important it is to keep up with appearances. She says that you must live and breathe writing if you want to be writer. She says that you must always be in character. She also says that if you are going to be a writer in this city that for this next project every one must wear a particular kind of dress. She tells the class their next assignment.