So this was an exercise I did a while ago, but I'm pretty proud of it.
Here you go...
A group of people are gathered, shoulder to shoulder, surrounding something out of sight. They wear robes, and are chanting in a low rumble, the words too muted to understand. They are so still, they resemble statues. The surrounding silence magnifies the intensity of their sound.
2. a spiral staircase
The stairway leads upwards to more bookshelves. The banister is wrought iron, the color of charcoal, and very dusty, as though no one had touched it in a century. The steps were similarly untouched, but underneath the layer of dust lay marble steps, concave in the center from endless use.
3. Classical music
The low tones of Brahms fourth symphony lulled me, leaving my mind to wander when suddenly, time stopped. It was as though the music had taken the hand of the clock, and kept it from moving forward…
4.the color red
Her dress was the most intriguing of all. It was a red that couldn’t be placed in one category, being reminiscent of a soft rosebud, not yet ready to bloom, and at the same time, a river of blood after a great battle. And yet, although it was unusual, it matched the shade of her lips and the tint of her cheek exactly.
5. hot soup
The smell drove him wild, a mixture of garlic and comfort. As he looked in the bowl, he saw nothing but the deep golden amber, as though it were in a bottomless bowl. As he dipped in his spoon and let the liquid stream into it, he anticipated the warmth, and dreaded what memories it would recall in him.
The drops fell as if in slow motion. Each one making a cacophonous sound as it landed on his shoulder, head, palms. He lifted his head to the clouds, and opened his mouth, letting the sweet drops fall in, but they seemed to avoid him, scared to end their existence in the storm.
7.the smell of a barbeque.
As they passed, she couldn’t help breathing in deeper and deeper. How long had it been? A year? More? And the sweet and tangy smell called to her like a siren. Her logic left her, and all she wanted was Rockland’s.
So this is why people say the cold is bitter. Every time the wind blows in my direction, I find myself making the same face I made the first time I tried Compari…what a mistake that was!
As they hugged goodbye, her pillow got caught between them. The air rushed out of it, and they hugged for the first time as if they weren’t skin and bones.
10. a hot cup of coffee
As she tasted the sample, the sweetness and the hint of blueberry were unexpected. She wondered where the beans were from, and how long they had been roasted. She took another sip and stopped caring. All she wanted was the caffeine.
11.the welcoming bark of a dog.
And there goes Xena. You can tell it’s her because even though she’s a Portuguese, she tends to bark like a Doberman. That’s what happens when a puppy spends too much time with another breed. They start thinking that’s what they are too…
What an odd piece of furniture, she thought. The legs were carved cherry, and reminded her of the feet on an old bathtub. The seat was rounded in all directions, as if it were silly putty kneaded into an approximation of a chair. Covering it was a cotton velvet that looked softer than it felt.
13. a bench
It looked lonely. There weren’t any other benches near by and it was off on it’s own, covered in fallen leaves. No one had used it in a long time. It suited his mood perfectly.
I don’t know what it is about it, but I love television. I love the stories. I love how I can take an hour out of my day and experience someone else’s life. It’s a magic wand that can transport me anywhere I’d like to go.
15. seedless grapes
The oval was black. I brought it to my nose and smelled it, but there wasn’t anything especially succulent about the scent. When I put it in my mouth, I was annoyed by the bitterness, but then, as I sank my teeth in slowly, searching for the seed, the juice rolled over my tongue and to the back of my throat. It was marvelous. And then I realized that my teeth had reconnected. Where was the seed?
16.being nauseous (this was me making fun of the woman who wrote the book. Being nauseous means that you make others feel nauseated. So that’s what I described…)
He couldn’t understand. Where was everyone running to? As he looked behind him, he found a second grader crying over a pool of vomit. “Please don’t, I don’t want to thow up again. Please, go away. You made me thow up!”
17.spilling a liquid
Time slowed down as the white crawled over the counter, seeking the edge. It seemed to have a mind of its own. She leapt for the nearest towel, but the milk kept moving toward the edge and over, running down the cabinet side, and pooling on the ground, where Mrs. Mew was licking happily.
Each kiss is different. Sometimes they’re gentle, sometimes rough, this one felt like two marshmallows dipped in hot chocolate and begging to be taken into my mouth.
It was comfortable in his hand. Rounded and wooden, he thought it strange that the most appealing thing for him, what made him truly love this pencil, was the orangey yellow color and the big bold black No. 2 written on the side.
Everything was chaos, but all I could think about was the howling. I didn’t care that sometimes my feet left the ground; that seemed almost normal. It was the strange howling sound, not quite like anything I’d ever heard before. It was that sound that made me stop and turn around.
21. white wine.
She took a sip. Mmmmm. But why? Why did it make her think Mmmm? If only she’d actually paid attention at her wine tasting class. Instead she just gulped it down and ignored everything else. Let’s see. Sweet. But not that sweet. Tart. But not that tart. Fuck it. When in doubt, act like Meg Ryan: “It’s a bold wine, with a hint of sophistication, and not lacking in pretention.”
22.wet tears on your face.
As they hugged, his tears transferred to her cheek. It was a strange feeling, to have a tear slide down her cheek, without being the one who created them. She’d cried so many times in her life, but didn’t feel the need now. And she could see her lack of tears was tearing him up inside.
23. a brick
It was so heavy. He hadn’t expected that. Redish brown, yes. Covered in old mortar, yes. Heavy, well, yes, but not this heavy.
24. warm socks
As he grabbed the sock on the ground that matched the one in his hand he thought about how strange socks are. The one from the ground was cold, but the one from his hand was still warm from the dryer. It was soft, and the static was making the fuzz even fuzzier. He distractedly started to bring it up to his cheek, to caress the softness, until he realized Mariah was looking at him with The Look again. He brought the two socks together and folded the top of one over both of them and threw them with the other pairs.
Oh God. Where’s the old lady? Where is she? Aha! 7 o’clock, three seats back, near the backdoor exit of the bus. Why do old ladies always wear ten times as much perfume? I could feel the sneezes coming. As I started to take the deep breath before the first one, I silently cursed the day Chanel came up with the idea of No. 5.
It’s alive. Well, sort of. I mean, it reacts to me. And it needs food and oxygen or it dies. And it’s got a defense mechanism. And the blue flames at the bottom near the wick, the ones that you almost can’t see, they’re so purple. I think that’s where the soul is. Which is why I refuse to put fires out. I’m not saying I’ll start them. Just that I believe it’s murder to put them out. What? You’re dad’s a fireman? Was a fireman? Oh…oh, I’m so sorry. Well, those fires can be put out. I mean, it’s justice. But they really should get a trial first. Wait, where are you going?
27.the grunt of a pig.
The pig made a noise and Roger jumped. He wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. Sort of a cross between a dog protecting it’s territory and flatulence.
28. rock n’ roll music.
The bass was so loud, it shook everything around her, including the floor and her teeth. She could feel it in her sternum, and it made her feel as if the music were coming from her soul rather than from two human sized speakers next to the DJ’s booth.
She closed the door to the dressing room, and took the wedding gown off the hanger. As she lifted her bare foot into the pool of silk on the ground, she couldn’t help but wonder at the dress’s texture. As she pulled it up her thighs, it looked like a waterfall of cream cascading down her leg. The low light of the dressing room made it glow. She had never felt so angelic.
He grabbed the handle and picked up the iron. It said it was on, but it didn’t seem like it to him. He brought his finger to the smooth metal surface, and immediately jerked it away. It was on.