March 1st, 2016

Story a day: 3.1.2016

Prompt: We're back to prose! Beautiful, simple, straightforward prose! The prompt I found today was to write about what's outside the window.

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When I was young, my friends sprouted up around me. They waved like so many green fingers while I wound my way up out of the ground. They made the air sweet in the wet morning heat and soft in the hard cold nights. They crunched when they were moved and whispered when the air rustled us. The ground rose and fell around us and we swayed like the ladybugs tiptoeing up our limbs.

I must have stopped looking down as I curled and coiled upward. Because now I am almost as tall as the glinting glass that arrived and smoothed the ground and there is nothing below me but faceless, smooth white like a block of ice that never melts.