Week Two Writing

“Write a piece that clearly maps a safe and dangerous terrain and explore the effects of the transition between the two. Everything that we learn about the character must come through the way the narrator or the character describes the physicality (or virtual terrain) of the two contrasting places.”

It’s a warm sunny day, and the streets are bustling with people. Sun reflects off the streets and everyone goes about their business with a positive energy. You can almost feel it in the air.

I cross the street to walk through the old city quarter. The shopping centre has been adorned with multi-colourful streamers that float in the wind, framed by the cloudless blue sky. The spires of the cathedral poke out between the neat glass buildings, sunshine reflecting off them.

I weave my way through the shops toward the square. The buildings are older here than the other buildings in town, but that makes them all the more charming. As if they are all individual characters in an incredible story that spans generations.

I walk along the path, smiling at how many people are sat out enjoying the late summer sunshine, picnicking and talking. This square, although relatively simple in its design, acts as a hub of the amazingly varied community of this city; we all feel like we have a place here. It's a place where you can meet with friends, and completely detach from the cold and harsh outside world.

I repress a shiver as I leave the square and cross the road. The wind has picked up, and it appears as if the sky has taken on a slightly greyer tinge than there was on the other side of the road.

Pulling my bag slightly higher on my shoulder as I pass a crowd of noisy people, who appear to be arguing over a packet of cigarettes, I gently feel in my pocket for my mobile phone. I don’t like this side of town; I can’t quite explain why but it never feels quite safe to me.

Subconsciously gaining speed, I walk down the alleyway to the bookshop that I’m looking for. A man walks towards me, a vicious kind of grin on his face as he looks me directly in the eyes. I look away swiftly, directing my glance to the ground and cross over to the other side of the road. I remind myself firmly that I have just as much of a right to be here as anyone else does, but that doesn't help to supress the feeling of being completely out-of-place.

Using a photo prompt our seminar leader left us with, I wrote this piece from the perspective of my main character, Gabriel:

The yellow plains appeared dry and bare in the heat of the day. Not a single cloud obscured the brilliant blue sky. Green trees dotted the landscape nestled in the shadow of the fierce, snow-capped mountain.

There was a distinct smell of pine in the air, and the air was the kind of fresh that can only be found in an area so thoroughly untouched as this. The wind whipping through the trees is the only sound, and the silence is intimidating.

I paced slowly over the valley, navigating my way through the trees, my ears pricked up in awareness. Some of the other wolves had taken to the mountainside, but I preferred to stay on the flat. My heightened sense of smell had picked up on something amid the pine trees, and I was determined to find out what it was.

Reaching the edge of an expansive pond, I found the smell I was looking for; blue green algae which lay directly under the water’s edge. Dropping my face to the water, I rested the tip of my nose gently in the soothing depths. The pool was icy cold despite the direct sunshine which shone on it, sending a shiver throughout my whole body.