A couple of Friday's ago Dan and I went to Jonesboro so he could take the Praxis. While I sat and waited on him I thought that I would write a poem for my creative writing class. This is what the result was:
Am I in a Murder Movie?
We come to the Chickasaw building.
Just like it says on the paper. As we
make our way through the piercing
February wind, we open the double doors.
It is vacant, but it looks as if the law
was after them and they all moved out in a
days time. The lights are on, so we walk
through. Room 403 is our destination.
We step onto the rickety elevator with
caution; not sure if it even works. Button
number four is pressed and we wait
silently with wide eyes wondering if at any
moment the elevator will either get stuck
or go else go crashing down to our deaths.
The 4th floor is much like the first with
bright florescent lights overhead. We hear
no sounds and see no one. We walk around
the fourth floor looking for our destination.
We finally find it. It has to be the only office
still open in the entire building. But it looks as
if they can pack up and move at any second,
perhaps even while we are waiting. I am told to
go into the waiting room across the hall. I
step into a room designed like the 60’s. Brown
paneling lines the walls. Bright orange shaggy
chairs, brown couches, an old Zenith television,
and orange lamp, and authentic stove, cabinets, and
refrigerator from the 60’s give decoration for the
room. All I hear is the humming of the refrigerator.
Am I in a murder movie?
I sit; wondering if my companion is being
chopped up into a million pieces as I wait in
the waiting room for my turn.
Just like it says on the paper. As we
make our way through the piercing
February wind, we open the double doors.
It is vacant, but it looks as if the law
was after them and they all moved out in a
days time. The lights are on, so we walk
through. Room 403 is our destination.
We step onto the rickety elevator with
caution; not sure if it even works. Button
number four is pressed and we wait
silently with wide eyes wondering if at any
moment the elevator will either get stuck
or go else go crashing down to our deaths.
The 4th floor is much like the first with
bright florescent lights overhead. We hear
no sounds and see no one. We walk around
the fourth floor looking for our destination.
We finally find it. It has to be the only office
still open in the entire building. But it looks as
if they can pack up and move at any second,
perhaps even while we are waiting. I am told to
go into the waiting room across the hall. I
step into a room designed like the 60’s. Brown
paneling lines the walls. Bright orange shaggy
chairs, brown couches, an old Zenith television,
and orange lamp, and authentic stove, cabinets, and
refrigerator from the 60’s give decoration for the
room. All I hear is the humming of the refrigerator.
Am I in a murder movie?
I sit; wondering if my companion is being
chopped up into a million pieces as I wait in
the waiting room for my turn.
*
Well, until we meet again, Adieu.
8 comments:
ok lol I think and hope that you are not in one. I am going to add you on my friend list .
my blog HomeschoolHattie
Cool Hattie I'm going to add you too.
Well were you? And are both of you still alive? And just what is the Praxis?
I think we might have been in a murder movie, but we escaped. The Praxis is a test that you have to pass to be a teacher
Just for clarification. The chickasaw building was the "building" on campus. It had admissions, financial aide, etc... Since the new student center is completed, everything is moving there. I do agree...it is quite eerie to go in there.
KJ- I love it, you are so very talented.
Hey. I was going to say that, Laura! :D And I do love you, KJ...and you are talented!
Thank you very much Jen and Laura! And Jen I love you too!
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