Ashley Cox
response to the six week on-line workshop short image exercise
copyright 1998 Ashley Cox
may not be reproduced in any form without permission of the author

Note by Storyarts:

There are other ways this exercise could be done, but this example comes close to being exactly what I hoped to see.
When you finish reading, take a moment to ask yourself what it is you most clearly recall from this page.

Ashley Cox

Objects lost and found

Found:  I was replacing the sheets on our bed on Saturday and I found my
husband's watch folded up into the clean sheets.  I have no idea how it
got there!  I flipped out the sheet, and it went flying across the
bedroom.  It hit the wall with a sharp "whack".  I didn't know what it
was, so I bent over to investigate.  I saw his Swiss Army Watch face
still ticking away, as if it hadn't been missing for 3 weeks.  I could
faintly hear the consistant "tick, tick, tick".  I could smell the
sweaty, leathery smell of the band, if I held it up to my nose.  The
leather band was stretched out where the hole has been tightened against
my husband ample wrist.

It made me realize 2 things: 1) That would be a wonderful way to
surprise someone with a gift, and 2) It has been a long time since I've
changed sheets.

Lost:  The most memorial thing that I think I have ever lost is our
dream house.  The house is a beautiful 2-story, 4 bedroom house.  It
also has a playroom, a sunroom and an unfinished basement.  Another
couple were making an offer on the same day that we did, and they beat
our offer by about $2,000.

When I found out, I cried.  I knew that we would never be able to find
another house like that one.  It was perfect for our little family.

Burned:  This is an easy one.  3 years ago, I was staying with my
mother, who is an insominac.  It was winter, and it had snowed all night
and the power was out.  My mom woke me up very early that morning, and
asked me to get up and help her do the dishes (by candlelight, no less!)
while we still had hot water.  I asked her to give me a few minutes to
wake up.

I stepped out of my bedroom into the smoky hallway.  I could see the
fire in my mom's bedroom, where it started, but that was all I could
see.  I was cloaked by the smoke.  It was in my lungs, in my eyes, even
in my skin.  I couldn't breathe.  Every breath filled my lungs with more
smoke, and I started coughing and trying to get to the front door on the
other end of my mother's rancher.  Later, my mom told that I had told
her about the fire, but I don't remember it.  I just remember finally
making it outside, coughing, and realizing that I was in 12 inch snow in
my barefeet and a long teeshirt.  Luckily, we were the only ones in the
house, and we came out unharmed.

Now, I am very paranoid about a burning smell, and I have nightmares
about my own house catching on fire.