[stylist] creative non-fiction "Snapshot" no language, no adult content

Mon Sep 6 14:10:39 UTC 2010

Hi Bridgit,
descriptions are very good in this.

I could be wrong but I think "adverting" you meant "averting."
jc

At 04:21 AM 9/6/2010, you wrote:

>Dear List,
>
>Happy Labor Day to all.  I am posting a piece I just worked on for a 
>class.  Before it is workshopped, I thought I would let you lot 
>deconstruct it, and let me know what you think.
>
>Bridgit
>
>Snapshot
>
>Reaching the bottom steps of the basement, an observer would notice 
>the following scene:  A naked lightbulb emanates a harsh yellow 
>brilliance stifled by the dark windowless, cinder-block walls and 
>open-rafter ceiling.  The grey painted floor resembles hard, cold 
>stone.  Separating the basement from the large family-room-sized 
>space, should be a plaster wall, but now just the wall studs remain 
>leaving a clear view into the large room converted into a 
>bedroom.  A skinny, blonde, young woman, Bridgit, sits in the middle 
>of the room surrounded by scattered piles of photographs.  Leaning 
>against the wrought iron footboard of her bed, she studies a 
>picture.  With knees drawn up against her slender body, she stares 
>at the image of a young woman.  The small window above the bed 
>shoots sunlight like a spotlight onto the section of floor the young 
>woman sits upon.  Bits of light reflect off the pictures littering 
>the beige carpet around the young woman.
>The pictures relay a moment modern technology has frozen in time.  A 
>small-town family wedding snapped for the centuries.  Bridgit is 
>twenty-one in the pictures.  A single year ago.  She remembers the 
>day, she remembers the feelings.  Happiness that weddings evoke, but 
>sadness that the occasion is not her own to celebrate.  Joy to see 
>relatives gone for too long, but restlessness to explore the world 
>too.  It was a third cousin's wedding, but the whole clan showed up 
>to celebrate the nuptials.  A panoramic shot included a large 
>portion of family members gathered at a long table enjoying the 
>home-cooked meal of chicken-fried chicken and gravy with mashed 
>potatoes and green bean casserole topped with real 
>onion-rings.  Bridgit smiled demurely, picking at the food before 
>her, while Uncle Lance, to her right, intently shoveled mashed 
>potatoes in his mouth, and Tami, her mother, held a bit of chicken 
>mid-air with her fork, talking, most likely saying how, 
>"Fried-chicken is not a very elegant choice for a wedding, but I 
>guess that is what you are use to in small towns."  Another picture 
>displays Bridgit in her black dress with a deep V in front exposing 
>a boney, but well tanned chest.  Bronzed arms connected with 
>another's, she stood next to her fourteen-year-old cousin, Colin, 
>already taller than her.  Her blue eyes gazed into the camera as she 
>flashed her one-dimpled smile.  The focus of the next photo captured 
>the wedding party and guest doing the Bunnyhop.  Clustered of to the 
>right, Uncle Doug and Aunt Becky grill her about college.  She 
>smiled quietly as, "What are you studying?"  "Still music?" and what 
>are your plans after graduation?" were fired at her.  Years of dance 
>training and etiquette school have taught her to stand erect with 
>head held high.  With her confident demeanor and three-inch heels, 
>she appeared taller than her average five-foot height.  Later in the 
>evening, the camera snapped Bridgit laughing wildly as Uncle Brent 
>whipped her across the dance floor like Ginger Rogers.  Another 
>moment captured Bridgit and Uncle Brent posing for the camera as he 
>dipped her low.  Another shot has Bridgit kicking her black strappy 
>heels off as she prepared for a new round of dancing.  Each 
>photograph is handled with care and placed in a tree creating a 
>timeline beginning with a picture of Bridgit's immediate family 
>dressed in their wedding attire posing for the first time in years, 
>to a snapshot of straggling dancers waltzing to the final song of 
>the night, "I Will Always Love You."  Each picture displays a happy, 
>smiling young woman, but one single shot captured the truth.  One 
>solitary picture alone shows her with the mask off.  It is the photo 
>she now sits and studies intently.
>Staring at the picture of herself, her expression is quizzical and 
>worn.  Her gaze is intent as though she will discover some truth 
>about herself.  A rare moment exposed displaying a part never meant 
>for public consumption, yet here it is for all to see.  She cradles 
>the picture in her thin hands as if breaking it will destroy some 
>part of her.  The camera revealed Bridgit resting her head on a 
>propped arm.  Escaped tendrils of hair framed her tanned face, and 
>her blue, almond-shaped eyes looked off into the distance.  Her 
>expression contained longing, dreams and hopes unrealized, mingled 
>with restlessness and deep sadness.  Sitting alone, tucked away in a 
>corner of the reception hall, she believed herself unnoticed, but 
>the camera caught her.  An X-ray imprinting her soul lay 
>bare.  Always so careful to wear her mask.  Never letting her guard 
>down, only to be trapped by a modern marvel.
>Placing this final picture in its proper spot in the visual 
>timeline, Bridgit looks around the room.  A blue "Happy-birthday" 
>balloon hangs deflated on the wall surrounded by pictures from high 
>school and college.  Bridgit, Tera and Jessica smiled in their 
>red-and-white cheerleading uniforms.  Bridgit standing at the grand 
>piano in the choir room, mouth opened as she belted "On My Own" from 
>Les Miserables.  Bridgit engulfed by Ryan, her boyfriend, the boy 
>she thought she would marry.  Bridgit and Tera, arms clasped around 
>each other's shoulders, grinning on graduation day.  Bridgit sitting 
>on Joe's knee during a cast party for Cinderella.  A letter pokes 
>out from behind the balloon, a love letter sent by a friend who 
>never forgot her, but that Bridgit could not muster the necessary 
>feelings for.  The letter is a reminder that some one in the world 
>thinks she is special.  A poster hangs on the opposite wall 
>displaying Kate and Leo at the bow of a ship, and next to this 
>stands a tall bookshelf lined with books from Little Women to I Know 
>Why the Caged Bird Sings.  Across the room a butter-colored 
>dresser-drawer reflects her image in its large mirror framed by 
>carved flowers.  Quickly adverting her eyes, she takes in the glass 
>bottle of Miracle perfume and the organized assortment of make-up 
>compacts and brushes.  A Shabby-chic-style jewelry box is arranged 
>on a corner of the dresser top, and necklaces hang on a pink 
>heart-shape with tiny hooks protruding from the lace-overlay 
>front.  The open closet reveals clothes hanging from shortest sleeve 
>length to longest as well as being color coordinated.  Directly to 
>the left of the entrance into her room, sits the thirty-two-inch TV 
>purchased by Ryan, the ex, disguised as a Christmas present, but 
>intended for the use of video games.  Taking in years of memories 
>and keepsakes, Bridgit finally turns back to the reflection in the 
>mirror.  Her blonde hair is pulled back in a long, wispy ponytail, 
>an attempt to hide the sections of hair that have fallen out with 
>portions of scalp still attached.  Head settled on boney knees, she 
>wonders at her compactness.  Chest, stomach and waist are hidden 
>behind skinny legs, and rail-thin arms wrap around just beneath the 
>pale, gaunt face.  Her eyes haunt her as they hold the longing and 
>sadness grown deeper by another year.
>
>_______________________________________________
>Writers Division web site:
>http://www.nfb-writers-division.org <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
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