Her

This piece was written a bit of time ago. I never got around to finishing because of the constant stops in the phrasing, though I did seem to enjoy the ambiguity.

She sat in the cold room with her typewriter. The study was deceitful - the soft lighting gave off a warm, orange atmosphere, but the sharp jab of the December wind painfully addressed its presence. Equally sharp was the clicking of the keys as she typed. The unpleasant noise was the price of mental serenity.

The common misconception of the pensive is that they are sane and sound. No one pays much attention to the student seated in the corner of the room. In that corner, however, resides the greatest of evils. Disgust gossips about her with Disappointment while Apathy governs. Apathy is the nonchalant ruler of this world; of her mind. He is sometimes rather lovely, not feeding her sympathy to make matters worse, but other times, he exults his name in her.

Once she decided to give in and leave her unpleasant sanctuary, the wood floors beckoned her back and she obeyed. The house was the only one that would allow her to be submissive, yet she viewed it as a cell. This room was the cold, stiff bed. In fact, she would sleep here come late spring. But now the ground was white, so she slept in the attic. The other rooms were reserved for various obsessions . Her artwork dies in quarters close to the dining room behind a heavy door. Above this was her observatory, with windows facing every direction but south. Adjacent was the library.

Her eyes began to shrink. She finished this one last paragraph and stood up. The clock displayed three forty. There were no windows in the study to tell her afternoon or morning, but her dazed state determined the sun was taking its nightly reprieve. It was hard to keep track of days and times now. The one thing about school she appreciated was the routine.

Author's Note

Please tell me your thoughts.

Reviews

[Muse]

It was ambiguous...that that made is all the more surreal. I could see myself in this girl. The quiet one...with a pensive stare...the kind of girl that acts as if she doesn't care. But it's not fair to assume such things. To be lost in thought...it can feel consuming and self-centered. A daydreamer who lost all concept of time.

I loved this.