Imagery Exercise 

The house was dark and cold.  The bright golden sunlight seemed to reach every house but theirs.  As the day moved on, emotion only seemed to disappear. Down the hallway contained the most sorrow.  It defined that happiness is not something you can borrow. The baby pink walls faded to what looked like a stained white.  The stuffed giraffe by the window that was once tall and proud, drooped more and more each day. Aside from the crib was an old wooden rocking chair.  Cobwebs collected at the bottom and on the seat was two little lilac purple shoes. The shoes were brand new but were sad. They were never worn but yet looked as if they lost the life they had to them.  Beside them was a stack of letters as tall as the sky. Dust collected on this tower of cards. What once were bright-colorful cards turned to having scents of mold and old age. Just behind the shoes was a tag attached to them.  As the space underneath the tag was shown, you could see that underneath it was the only clean spot on the chair’s surface. The rest was covered in the dust and cobwebs that filled the room. The shoes were one of the only things that were visible in the room.  The drawers were filled with clothes of all kinds. Pajamas, socks, onesies, and other random items lived in the drawers that remained untouched. Next door to the room was a woman slouching on the bed while leaning against the headboard. Tears streamed down her face yet she was calm.  Bags under her eyes formed and seemed almost permanent. Clothes were scattered all over the floor and not a single thing was inplace. Her old night shirt seemed to become her new skin. In her hands was another card. Except this time, it was not colorful. It was a grey color with the mark of tears stained on it.  The first line in the card read, “I am so sorry for your loss”.

On a neighborhood full of various styled houses lied one that particularly stood out.  The neighborhood had a rainbow of designs, each one having a different shape and color scheme.  This house however, had lost it’s life. The what was once navy blue paint, faded into a baby blue dusting.  Each window had a different crack in it that told a story. Below the windows lied a wooden door cracked open just enough to see inside.  Behind the wooden door was a screen door rusted bad enough that anytime there was slight wind, pieces of it dropping to the ground were heard throughout the neighborhood.  The entire aroma and overall feel of the house was anything but normal, it just was not good. In front of the house lied a barely visible paved driveway. It was hard to see beyond the the jungle of weeds and thousands of cracks.  In front of the small garage was a basketball hoop lying across the ground. The net was barely hanging on as the screws holding it started to wither. Next to the net was a partially deflated basketball. The color of it was as dull as a broken pencil tip.  Underneath it was a circle of its original color, untouched by the blazing sun. It layed close to the net as if it wanted to be close to it. There was no hole or rip in it’s exterior. There was only one thing that made this ball lose its air. That one thing is time.  Weeds grew across the ball and all around. It was barely visible as it seemed to start to become part of the surroundings. It was hard to tell the patches of dried red dirt peering through the gaps in the jungle-like weeds from the faded semi-circle that was the ball. Although, it still had some shape.  It still had some life. It still had time. It still had hope.