Sunday, January 16, 2011

rainy day


LAKESIDE WINTER

As described by the narrator from The Fall of the House of Usher


It was one ghostly and wretched day when the clouds were dragged sullenly seeping across the sky did I fist visit that dissolute place.  Through dank Seattle mist the buildings of lurid brick towered over bare and claw-like trees, and the wind whistled dismally in the November chill.  And I tell you now that I am not mad, for every so carefully placed crimson brick filled my mind with a penetrating unease, which over time wrought my brain numb.  Such a feeling it was upon this first sight, did I consider turning upon my wavering heel and fleeing as rapidly as my limbs would carry my.  But it was not to be so, for as if by some shrouded force, or perhaps some unconscious curiosity of the mind, my fickle shoes carried me forward across the square.  I hasten to assure you of my sanity now, so you will hear my words and heed this warning; for my anxiety did not abate but rather heightened at my proceeding observations.  As I stood numbly lost in the fancies of my mind, a bell echoed out into the stillness and children of heavy tread and heavier spirit drifted through the square.  Contorted to the point of anguish by weighty sacks, it was their faces that haunted me the most.  For as if in absolute protection from the sun, the likes of such ghastly pallor I had never seen nor have yet to see again.  And yet the sensation that came from these phantasmal figures was not of ghostly tranquility, but rather a deep trepidation, indicated in particular by their lustrous eyes: restive and agitated.  I truly hope you will not think me mad, for as quickly as they came, the children dissipated into the recesses of every building, leaving me with only a pestilent aura of unrest.  I know not what plagues these surreal beings to the point of such anxiety, nor do I care to know, for their memory alone is enough to plague me for the rest of my days.    


I recently rediscovered this paper I wrote for a high school english class. I believe we were supposed to chose an author to imitate, and I'm not surprised that Poe spoke to my dark side.  Fun stuff, maybe a bit heavy on the adjectives and crystal clear what I thought about my school! xo

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