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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by Laura on November 28, 2007
"I just got to thinking about what it's like for a child to move, something I did a few times when I was younger. I think children notice things that adults don't, and get attached to places and rooms in different ways."

Just a house

There are some things that
Adults just don’t see anymore.
Time and bills and schooling
Sap imagination, and soon a room
Of wonders becomes a ceiling,
Walls, and floor and nothing more.

Now the furniture is gone and all the
Old inhabitants of the room are truly
Visible, for one last time, to let me
Say Goodbye to all together, and hope
They won’t be lonely for too much longer.

Perhaps someday I won’t remember the
Lion of plaster in the corner, or the
Little boy of stains and cracks who
Lived on the floor beside my desk.
Or the faces on the ceiling, with large noses,
Who must have chatted when I wasn’t there.

Or the woman with the billowy dress
Made of branches, living in the tree
Right outside my window. Windy
Days gave her lots of running to do,
But she didn’t have a face.

Perhaps I will become an adult someday
And forget all their names, forget the
Way the windowpanes creak at night,
And the way the moon reflects off the
Floorboards in the winter.
So I’ll carve my name into this wall
And leave a part of me here.

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