Writing 101: Assignment #4 – A Story in a Single Image

Conquering Mountain


They say mustard seeds can move mountains. So how did I end up on the opposite side of it? Its tough exterior mocked the clouds hanging in the sky, mimicking their shape. Deceiving them like it did me the day Claire walked out the door. She didn’t take my heart with her, just some toiletries she didn’t really need. You know typical girl stuff. I wonder if she was being sarcastic again. She’d rather hold onto an old toothbrush than an old me. Claire was tough like that; tall but delicate. She had the appearance of a lightweight but I knew I could never carry her. She was a rare stone, or a beautiful picture carved into concrete. The wind blew a cool breeze slightly. I silently prayed it would rain. At least then I’ll have an excuse for why reality crawled its way out of my throat. Besides, they say men are not supposed to cry. Claire always thought that was stupid logic. Maybe that’s because she was always around water, so water on cheeks wasn’t a big deal to her. I smiled weakly. I’d always been in love with her mind. No wonder I found myself here; on the edge of the dramatic Columbia River Gorge, a steeply pitched, creek-like river chasm where the hills roll over and over like new carpet, and the water spread its body over the land like fine silk. I gave Claire silk once. An anniversary present for our six months together. She said it was too soon. That I should stop taking so much time out of my vacation to visit her. How can love ever be too soon? That is something we always disagreed on. Anyway, enough about Claire. I read somewhere that they were closing this place down. No more tourists they said. I bet it was Claire. This trip was supposed to be my celebration for finally having the strength to not care about her anymore. She may have me now but dear Mountain Claire, I will reach you soon.


Writing 101: Assignment #3 – One Word Inspiration–Choice (a poem)


Created to choose good
we traded our crown for the right to understand evil
And stand now as soldiers in a time of war
load me down with breastplates and helmets
for we shackle ourselves to the decisions we make
There are many paths before us,
a starlight fantasy for our dreams
a playground for our games
and truths
and falsehoods
all candy coated to look alike
these paths unfold like red carpet occasions
judgment spreads its arms like a mother
beckoning for her children
inviting us into its chest
and there we feed on the free will
to choose our own verdicts
what kind of life will we live
and what will we trail behind
we live on them
like the very breath we breathe
inhale and exhaling ourselves to the next step
what will become of this poem
will I dare to save a life
is it possible
that one can live on these words
nourished simply by the right
to choose
to read them