The Daydream

Time is fleeting as a dreamer

A tired blink at the clock. The minute hand hit 12. Pencils scribbled furiously, left to right, front to back. To the left, Jake's right hand was speeding across the paper like the leading car of a NASCAR race, tongue lolling happily against his lips, unperturbed by the glasses askew on his freckled nose. To the right, Molly gazed upwards in deep thought, pencil twirling harmoniously in her left hand, then without warning, the pencil hit the paper with enough force to puncture delicate skin, flying left to right with great speed. A determined blink at the paper. The name Kaylie Malin was sketched out in flowery cursive strokes. An innocent blink out the window for inspiration...

A fresh coconut in one hand, navy blue waves crashing against the shore, kids laughing and running on the sun-bathed sand with... sea lions? Where am I? A curious blink at a passing business man wearing a black and white tie over a tropical shirt, carrying a suitcase, glancing carefully at his sparking diamond watch, hand clenched on two drum sticks. “40 minutes...” he mutters. 40 minutes to be... on the stage in front of tens, if not hundreds of spectators in an extravagant concert hall. Women in pretty apparel with floral fans, men with spectacles, all eyes sparkling in anticipation of my... what exactly do they expect from me? A gulp of uncertainty and nerves. A nervous blink at the fidgety walrus-mustached gentleman at the end of the stage, mouthing “20 minutes!” and pointing furiously at the violin atop the concert piano. Me? A violinist? My shaking hand reaches over and grabs... a script. A thick, dissertation like script. Ten sparkling eyes warm up my cheeks in a quaint room. One table with chairs that lightly squeak as they turn with the weight of the owner. I look down at the highlighted portion of my audition script to become... Lizza Korana, Hollywood actress. My heart begins a familiar drum roll, my eyes widen dramatically, the audition begins with an unconcealed stutter of surprise. The director smiles and says: “Time's up.”

But... but I didn't even provide my lines yet! I can do better than this, please give me another chance!

An embarrassed blink around the room at... my classmates?

Mrs. T bends over me, smiles, and repeats: “Time's up.”

I look down at my writing test prompt:

“Describe three things you aspire to do or become after you graduate from college.”

I blink in disbelief at my wandering thoughts.

Author's Note

I love using imagery and vivid words in my writing. Hope you enjoyed it!