. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Thursday, February 7, 2008

L'il Folk Tales

Y Y Y
LOVE IS IN THE AIR:
I rise from my desk and walk towards the built-in pencil sharpener on the back wall of the classroom. I can see him from the corner of my eye. He's sooo cute! Why won't he look at me?

I sharpen my pencil until it almost dissapears into the hole and hoping now that no one is looking, I stuff the pencil shavings in the pocket of my dindl skirt. The teacher seems too enwrapped in her words to notice my dissapearance.

I sit back down at my desk. I guess all I can do now, is wait.

The teacher finishes her lesson and hands out a question sheet. I take one and pass the others to the student behind me. That's when I see him.

He looks down at his pencil and stands up. I push the lead of my pencil against the edge of my desk until it snaps off. I want to run to the back of the room so that no one will get between us in line, but I must keep my cool...I cross my fingers and slow down my steps. I so much want him to fall in love with me and I think I've finally found a way. It came to me last night, just as my eyes were closing.

I am standing behind him now, my hand holding tightly to the pencil shavings hidden in my left pocket. His beautiful, blond hair glistens while his hands are busy with sharpening his pencil. Then he turns to walk back to his seat.

Okay. Now...no...NOW! And the love dust flies through the air, landing on his beautiful, blond, glistening hair.

But, well, umm...when he turns around at my expectant eyes and my smiling lips, I see that his face is totally covered with my love dust and he's rubbing his eyes frantically. And though I can't make out his words, I see them coming out of his mouth in a fury. What went wrong, I wonder. Why has my love potion not worked? Maybe I just used too much...

Y

4 comments:

Polly said...

Sweet evoking of that age...

And using too much love dust can be a problem at any age!

Marjolaine Hébert said...

Thx Polly. The reason I wrote it though was due to its foreigness, as I overheard a conversation about a similar memory being shared. I'm not sure I was Ever that young and so beautifully innocent...I'm glad someone was :-)

Lam--_--Poon@hotmail.com said...

Hellllloooo!

Edi and I are thanking you for writing this story made us laugh! We like many of your stories but your poems and ones of sad love are our favorites.

I have tried to write some strory about my home. I can see it in my head but cannot put it on the paper. I will try some more – prehaps you will read my story some day…. Ha ha

Your friend

Poon

Marjolaine Hébert said...

So nice to hear from you, Poon! I was missing you. I'm glad you enjoyed this story & I look forward to reading one of yours.
Perhaps a suggestion for you? You might find it helpful to talk into a recorder first, about what you're seeing in your mind's eye. Then you can take your time forming the words on paper.

: -)