literature

Death of an Exclamation Mark

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IronArmy's avatar
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Literature Text

The blow fell when life was yet an unfolding concept for me. Elementary school, home to eager fingers and ruled by giants, made of gargantuan halls that boasted less and less as the years made their unappreciated visits. Paper could always be found in my home, and often appeared inside the bright classrooms near colored rugs, ready to be marked as seen fit by their masters. When those warm and anonymous times fled in the night, paper grew older. It remained a medium, yet was tempered by its presentation as a tool on which we were to follow instruction. As formal as paper’s new face was, it was still a smiling face. To further confine our use of paper, more instruction was needed. Writing never bothered me much anyway, not when there was so much to write about all around me. Excitement and color were puddled upon everything. Words upon paper flowed as I felt them, and an easy relationship remained. The blow fell on a dry day of cracked sidewalks. Their voices informed me that exclamation marks could not be the end of so many thoughts. Such punctuation rallied only behind notes of excitement and importance. The red crouching atop my paper glowered at me whenever I stayed in my world of stimulating happenings, and bit whenever those happenings found their way into my writing. The hit had been a crippling one that made me tuck much of that early excitement away in an orderly, gray box. I still look at it longingly every time I mourn the death of the exclamation mark.
Little prose that I wrote for my creative writing class. Wanted to submit SOMEthing after so long...:shakefish:
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BigMaleforFan's avatar
creative writing class ? man i failed the lesson just reading the title !!!
nicely done btw !!!