Showing posts with label Assignment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Assignment. Show all posts

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Assignment two

You ready once again for an assignment visa-ve my old assignment via my sister-in-law?  Well, if you're not ready then you can just read what I have to say about the matter... or just my assignment, you  know... whatever

Assignment:  Take the person from assignment one and put them in a story (introduce a conflict, make it worse and then resolve it)  in 750 words.



The loud blare of the alarm signals the start of another day for Debra. Pushing herself onto her side, she slowing gets up, groggy and disoriented.  With a yawn and a stretch she gets to her feet, two steps and she is across the room.  Small with walls, remind her of the years in school she would rather forget.  Just like all the mornings before she can hear the muffled sounds of raised voices: a man, woman and an infants cry for attention.  As she pulls on her faded khakis she wonders at why she can’t seem to say no to food and hating that her legs are always too long for the pants she has.  Shirt on, hair in place she takes a step to the right where her kitchen lay, grabbing a piece of peanut butter toast she is out the door.  
Three minutes to spare as she makes her way out and down the stairs.  Looking down at her shirt as she pins on her metallic tag with name embossed across it she misses the last step falling down and tearing a  small whole right below the knee.  Back in to change and out again as fast as she can; she is now five minutes late.  In the car and ready to speed to make up the time, she is off down the road.  With each red light she breathes deeply wanting just to will the light to turn green.  Finally, it there is a light that is green.  She steps on the gas but nothing happens.  All at once it seems that the car shakes, screeches and thuds.  Pulled off on the side of the road, she rubs her hands across her face, willing herself to action.  Out and under the hood, the car hisses in time with Debra's huffs.  Hissing, what was it that she knew about hissing... nothing.  Pulling out her phone, she starts her way down the A's of her contact list.  Who can help?  Who is free?  She calls one and another.   She finds a co-worker who will trade shifts with her, giving her twenty minutes to get to work.  How to get there even in that time?  Down and down the list she goes.  In the driver's seat Debra forces a smile pondering what positives of this situation, she cracked, only enough to allow for one small tear.  Wiping  firmly away Debra shakes herself and plants a smile, willing herself not to cave.  Pulling out her phone again she continues down the list.  In M's she see the mechanic she used for her oil change a while back.  Calling him would help but cost.  Debra breaks down and calls her mechanic.  He said he can come but it would be a while but if she hid the keys on the car she didn't have to wait with the car.
She walks, the sun beating down on her she feels herself start sweating.  "Good thing I remembered deodorant", she shakes her head and laughs to herself.  With each step the snug fit of her shoes reminders her of every inch of her feet and how they long to be free.  Each car that passes, makes the walk seem all the more long and all the more slow than reality.  Debra snickers to herself as she envisions herself walking in slow motion.  Finding the bus line that will take her close to work she stops and sits down on the rickety, slowly rotting bench.  With each minute that passes Debra tries not to think of the conversation that lies ahead.  It being her second time being written up, at least the first time it wasn’t because she was late, she knows that her job will still be there but what if something like this happens again.  Giving herself a shake, trying to pull her self up she finds her pants pull snug.  Debra looks to see if a her pants have snagged.  No, no snag but a large wad of gum has smushed between her pants and the old bench.  With three hard pulls she is free and gum free, well almost, just as the bus pulls up.
With a sigh, she falls into her seat.  Amused by her own, all be it, chaotic adventure she thinks over the day and is amazed that she will make it to work at all that day.  It only adds to her humor that the bus is packed and she is sitting next to a mother confidently, naturally and ever so freely feeding her toddler.  Looking the other way and silently snickering to herself at the fact never did she think she would get to see a stranger's breast on the bus.  Finally as the bus makes it's way to her stop, her phone rings, the ID displays "mechanic".  Walking down the aisle and off the bus, Debra answers.  The mechanic tells her that it was just a belt and that the car needed some coolant, he continues to say that he would throw in the tow since it was only a few minutes from the shop.  The strangers stare as Debra yelps and kisses her phone repeatedly saying thank you.
Walking towards the building that has become, strange and dysfunctional as it may be, a second home to her, she laughs, having checked her watch, at the irony of making it in on time.  


Saturday, June 18, 2011

Assignment: I think I can I think I can

As per an assignment from my dear sister-in-law, I wrote this bit.  Her assignment (which I would advise you do) was pretty simple, or so it seemed, describe a person in 500 words... the task is not as simple as these words seem to imply!




Debra, or so the oval, beveled , metallic tag says, is more than your average worker. Surrounded by cold, scuffed tile with prints marked across of telling how many have come through on just one day and a flicker overhead that can only be a product of florescent lights, oil is in the air, not as thick as to make the skin sticky or floor slick but there is not doubt of where the Mason-Dixon line lays.      A child’s birthday party gone array, Debra gingerly shifts her weight from one foot to the next, only to have her way cut off by another child jaunting barefooted in her path.  Finally, making it to her destination: the trash bins, she diligently wipes and picks clean the trash flap.  What makes her express tenderness and contentment when handling reprehensible behavior and stubborn rubbage?  Is she just waiting for her prince charming? Maybe she has Gandhi's secret.  She has taken the time between her long shifts to sit and meditate: find tranquility?  Each fare across the dining room her eyes hide a smile.  Soft features across an deep ebony completion.  Hand-me-down khaki pants rest well above her black tennis shoes with Velcro straps matched only by the well worn black and grey uniformed polo.   While working rarely would her lips part but when they do out comes soft dulcet tones, leaving no hint from where she might have come.
Strolling out of what reads “employee’s only”, she makes her way with broom in hand to brush away what remains of people that came before.  She passes with a breeze of muted melody.   Her hands, with rag, ready, waiting for action. She peers around as she completes a table to see where to go next.  In the corner, next to the bathroom, she spots some cemented wreckage, pursing her lips, she marches as quickly as sore feet will allow to take down that odious mar.  A wave of oil, Lysol and Shea butter waft behind her as she makes her way back to retrieve a new rag.  In spite of cleaners, oil and hand washing, soft, smooth hands take on yet another table with her wrung towel.  Smiles and nods in understanding as she passes a young mother trying to console her small child while she makes yet another loop around the dinning room.  Stopped by what seems to be a customer with a question, she is led into a long conversation; showing pleasure and assuring them they are being heard all the while.
Debra is no ordinary worker.  As she takes on the dust, dirt and crying children, she finds pleasure and manages to spread it to others.  Despite having to clean areas meant for disposal, and wiping the carnage of previous meals she keeps on, always looking for the next thing to be done.  In the face of long days on her hurt feet, she hums the day away with melodic tones of cheerful thoughts.  Debra is no ordinary worker.