almost, but not quite, entirely unlike me (megasus) wrote in nnwmabstracts,
almost, but not quite, entirely unlike me

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It needs a title... or maybe it doesn't

Okay so....

It's the 8th already I haven't started writing. At this point I would have to write like 2500 words a day. Am I that dedicated? This happens every year. I want so badly to participate in NaNoWriMo but I always get caught off guard. Sometimes I'm not even sure if I feel like a writer anymore.

Anyway, I just wrote this little piece... it is mostly based on a true story, but it's sort of a vague representation of it. I don't like really saying when stuff is based on truth because I feel like it suddenly makes it less interesting to most people. But I'm trying really hard to work toward "creative nonfiction" ... in that, I can retell stories from my perspective in a way that is creative and interesting and makes people wish they had been there! Or feel like they'd been there.... or something.

So enough of the disclaimer... here is what I have written. I want to sort of add to it, but the stuff I have in mind is completely fictional and probably not at all appropriate for this project. So I will just see if this inspires any further ideas/writing... tell me what you think (it does feel completely plotless, i'm aware, but it's more that i am trying to find a writing style and the story isn't really finished -- and this isn't necessarily the beginning, or the end... it is probably in the middle somewhere of some bigger story. We'll see... I'll sleep on it.

Without further adieu...

It was late one winter night, and
the roads were littered with black ice. Our insomniac brains could barely focus
on the road, but we followed the imminent sunrise, carefully dodging patches of
ice. It was like dodging raindrops in a monsoon. The road crew hadn’t been out
yet to sand the roads, and even once they did, we were always in the
neighborhoods that were skipped by the sanders. Only this time, we weren’t in a
neighborhood. We weren’t even in the city.

Something caught our eye just over
the horizon, and being of the curious type, we had to inspect further. She
smiled a wicked smile from the passenger’s seat, the kind of smile that shows
you’re hiding something.

“Just keep driving west,” she said,
as I tried to look out the window past her.

“But I want to see!” I said,
swerving slightly.

“Stay on the road!” she screamed.

So I took the exit that would lead
us west, the glimmering rays of the unknown shimmering just beyond the corner
of my eye.

“Next exit,” she finally said.

We pulled off on a road that seemed
lifeless – even for as late as it was, you expected to hear something. But
there were no houses, no farms, no businesses for miles. There was only a few
small pull-offs in the curb. We pulled into a graveled area

surrounded by miles of grains in
every direction.

“Turn the car off and go look at
the sky,” she said.

So I turned off the car, and with
the headlights gone, the miles of growth around us seemed to disappear. I
couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, but I stepped outside of the car and
looked to the sky.

She did the same, and walked around
to meet me at the back of the car. At first she said nothing, just crossed her
arms and leaned against the car.

“Neat, huh?” she finally said.

“Wow.” I managed to utter.

There was such peace in the silence
that followed, like an unbreakable understanding of all time had befallen us at
that very moment. A cosmic event that ties civilizations together, that
remembers nothing of its’ fame, but performs its spectral dance again and
again. No two dances are ever alike, and these magnificent displays only last a
short while.

The magnitude of this event sunk
deep into my core, and as my eyes began to adjust to the lack of light, I could
see her dusty grin beside me, her recognition of how special this moment would
be for me.

“Never seen that before?” she
asked, with a tone that suggested she already knew the answer.

“Never,” I responded. My neck was
craned, watching the Northern Lights dance above us, the varying degrees of
reds and greens shimmering throughout the northern sky.

“Well,” she said, “Let’s go. It’s
not like you’ll never see them again.”

With a sigh, I leaned back against
the car.

“Just give me another minute,” I

Once she got back in the car, I
laid my head back and closed my eyes. I imagined a world where natural
occurrences of beauty would be enough to outlive the ugliness of humanity. I
envisioned some kind of paradise, where these beauteous displays would shimmer
throughout every night, bringing a sense of cohesion and harmony to all of the
land’s people. A world where simple things were respected and the miracles of
nature praised.

I opened my eyes again. The dancing
waves of shimmering light were fading, undulating with less intensity than

I sighed and watched awhile longer
as they danced into the distance… perhaps off to perform in another universe…
perhaps never to display this same dance again.

“I wish it didn’t have to end,” I
told her.

“But then it wouldn’t be as
special,” she replied.

I contemplated the meaning of this
and sat in the darkened silence trying to find words to express my feelings
about the experience.

“Let’s get back to town,” she
finally said softly.

“But I’m not ready to go yet…”


Tags: aurora, winter
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