I was sitting at the edge of the soccer field at the New Glasgow High School. I was sketching in a leather bound book.I was cold from the late fall weather. The trees were grey and rough, the grass brown and stringy and the rocks sucking the warmth of life from me.
I sharpened my pencil and realized the canister that held the shavings was full. Hesitating, I took it apart and began to shake it out on the base of the tree. Feeling the guilt of littering, I looked around to see if I was being watched. After a thorough search and seeing no one, I went ahead and emptied the shavings onto the trunk of the closest tree.
The wind picked up, making the pencil shavings fly around and into my eye. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I saw a car pass and felt hesitation about what I had done.
Looking at my sketchbook, I saw nothing but a blank page where I had just drawn an image. My creation gone and no recollection of what it was.
0 comments:
Post a Comment