| General Fiction posted September 25, 2019 |
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The time of my life
The Attic
by zanya
Our attic was stuffed full of children's books, old battered suitcases and spare plug-in radiators for freezing winters.
I studiously avoided decluttering. Then one day there was a loud ring on the front door. A middle-aged man stood outside with a brochure in his hand, filled with irresistible pictures of how life can be transformed if you oust your attic clutter.
I listened politely, as he recounted, what I considered to be tall tales, of how people found new meaning in their lives following an attic conversion. I thought perhaps we might be at cross purposes as to the meaning of 'conversion.'
Later on, I browsed through the brochure as I sat in the Spring sunshine on the patio.
A week or so later, the salesman, Larry, called again. He assured me that he and his band of helpers would declutter and would not dispose of anything without my permission. Now I began to feel a little more reassured. My millennial children are aghast at my hoarding habits!
Long story short, six weeks later, I was watching the world from a whole new angle, through the attic skylight. It actually felt different.
Not wasting any more time, Larry and his mates moved my computer and desk up the little rickety stairs to the attic.
Blue sky was my new backdrop. Swallows swooped as I sat churning out words at my desk. Sunsets were my late evening show. Sipping my first cup of coffee on summer mornings, I watched the dawn light roll in.
Now that Autumn's here, I have already heard the gaggle of Brent geese as they fly close by the skylight on their migratory path.
I know, it's ridiculous to be writing about this in terms of 'The Time of Your Life'.
But for me, for now, at least, I'm having the time of my life, viewing the world through the prism of my attic study window.
The time of my life: writing prompt entry
Our attic was stuffed full of children's books, old battered suitcases and spare plug-in radiators for freezing winters.
I studiously avoided decluttering. Then one day there was a loud ring on the front door. A middle-aged man stood outside with a brochure in his hand, filled with irresistible pictures of how life can be transformed if you oust your attic clutter.
I listened politely, as he recounted, what I considered to be tall tales, of how people found new meaning in their lives following an attic conversion. I thought perhaps we might be at cross purposes as to the meaning of 'conversion.'
Later on, I browsed through the brochure as I sat in the Spring sunshine on the patio.
A week or so later, the salesman, Larry, called again. He assured me that he and his band of helpers would declutter and would not dispose of anything without my permission. Now I began to feel a little more reassured. My millennial children are aghast at my hoarding habits!
Long story short, six weeks later, I was watching the world from a whole new angle, through the attic skylight. It actually felt different.
Not wasting any more time, Larry and his mates moved my computer and desk up the little rickety stairs to the attic.
Blue sky was my new backdrop. Swallows swooped as I sat churning out words at my desk. Sunsets were my late evening show. Sipping my first cup of coffee on summer mornings, I watched the dawn light roll in.
Now that Autumn's here, I have already heard the gaggle of Brent geese as they fly close by the skylight on their migratory path.
I know, it's ridiculous to be writing about this in terms of 'The Time of Your Life'.
But for me, for now, at least, I'm having the time of my life, viewing the world through the prism of my attic study window.
I studiously avoided decluttering. Then one day there was a loud ring on the front door. A middle-aged man stood outside with a brochure in his hand, filled with irresistible pictures of how life can be transformed if you oust your attic clutter.
I listened politely, as he recounted, what I considered to be tall tales, of how people found new meaning in their lives following an attic conversion. I thought perhaps we might be at cross purposes as to the meaning of 'conversion.'
Later on, I browsed through the brochure as I sat in the Spring sunshine on the patio.
A week or so later, the salesman, Larry, called again. He assured me that he and his band of helpers would declutter and would not dispose of anything without my permission. Now I began to feel a little more reassured. My millennial children are aghast at my hoarding habits!
Long story short, six weeks later, I was watching the world from a whole new angle, through the attic skylight. It actually felt different.
Not wasting any more time, Larry and his mates moved my computer and desk up the little rickety stairs to the attic.
Blue sky was my new backdrop. Swallows swooped as I sat churning out words at my desk. Sunsets were my late evening show. Sipping my first cup of coffee on summer mornings, I watched the dawn light roll in.
Now that Autumn's here, I have already heard the gaggle of Brent geese as they fly close by the skylight on their migratory path.
I know, it's ridiculous to be writing about this in terms of 'The Time of Your Life'.
But for me, for now, at least, I'm having the time of my life, viewing the world through the prism of my attic study window.
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Writing Prompt Write a short story. The topic is: The best time you ever had in your life. It can be as an adult or as a child. Please keep it clean. Minimum length 100 words. Maximum Length 4,000 words. |
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