Here is the first product of my creative writing English class. In this activity we were to write a scene that had a memory within it.

I left the house late, a quarter to five and the sun was just setting. I opened the old Ford pick-up’s peeling handle and swung one leg inside. Using the steering wheel as a balance, I hoisted my other leg into the cab and just sat for a moment, eyes closed, air leaving my lungs heavy. I could remember her sitting next to me. Pale yellow sundress, red bow in her hair, a supple smile turned towards me. The glitter of her laugh touched me as if raindrops were kissing my balding head. Harsh wind blew into the cab from the still opened door, whisking her away too. I opened my slow, tired eyes without rush and sighed deeply, turning the key in the ignition.

As I have learned, every Tuesday we will be turning in a short story (no more that 4 ages in length). While every Thursday we will be bringing in a single scene. So I should be posting rapidly this semester!

Love from Pullman,

The Blonde and the Bullshit