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Description
A Periwinkle Sunset
Writing Prompt #3
9/22/12

A periwinkle sunset,
A china tea set.
The perfect light,
It's oh, so right.

I chewed on the pencil eraser, re-reading my scribbled handwriting. Satisfied, I slipped my pencil between the yellowed pages and snapped the notebook closed, stuffing the whole thing into my jeans pocket. Glancing around the bustling hallway, I gathered up my necessary textbooks and notes before slamming my locker shut.

"What's that?"

The voice came from my left, and I whirled, dark hair flying about my shoulders.

"Huh?"

"What were you writing?" A little girl- she must have been in one of the lower elementary grades- was gazing up at me with baby doe-brown eyes.
I blinked, glancing down to my pocket which was fattened by my little notebook. She was just a young girl- she didn't know that it was etiquette not to barge in on other people's business. This is what I told myself.

"Uh, it was just some homework notes…" I lied, awkwardly craning my neck to look down upon her.

"Oh." She looked almost disappointed.

My school went from Kindergarten to Eighth Grade, though the elementary students and middle-schoolers were usually separated. How had she got so far away from her classroom?

"I just thought, maybe… you were writing a story." She lowered her dark lashes to her cheeks, embarrassed to be wronged on her assumption.

"Well, actually. It wasn't homework notes. It was a poem." I don't know what made me blurt it, but I felt bad for her. Underneath those two dark chocolate eyes I could see a deep sadness. She was all alone, without even a friend to join her on her trek up to the higher grades, for whatever reason she was here. Perhaps she was bullied. Or she didn't have many friends. She was searching for one. And I wasn't about to turn her away- yet another failed attempt at a new companion.

Her eyes instantly brightened, and she took a few steps forward, leaning on her tiptoes, much like a bird ready to take flight. "A poem? Can I see?"

I blinked, glancing around. I only had a few minutes until the bell rang, and the little girl had to get to her class.

"Tell you what. Meet me at the big oak tree outside after school and I'll tell you." I said.

She nodded, eyes wide. "Okay!" Before turning and trotting away, a skip in her step.

***

The bell rang and I skittered back to my locker, quickly opening it and carelessly shoving my textbooks and other junk inside. It was Friday. I was too lazy to nicely organize everything like I did every week day. Snatching up my cell phone, I closed it and turned around, weaving through the masses of middle school bodies as I tried to get through to the door.

"See ya Monday, Ali!" My friend called out, slapping my hand as I dashed by. I gave her a smile and a nod, but didn't stop to chat.

Fresh afternoon air burst from the doors I shoved open, flipping my long hair against my face. Annoyed, I brushed it back to my shoulders and continued to plunder through the plethora of people, using my elbows like weed-whackers. Why was everybody so[I] slow[/I] on Friday? I wanted to get home!

I was about to start down the sidewalk on my long journey to my house, when I stopped, turning to find the same doe-eyed girl twiddling her thumbs underneath the large oak tree.

I about slapped myself on the forehead for forgetting. I promised her!

Changing course, I made a beeline for the shady tree. Once arrived, I dropped my backpack by the trunk and sat cross-legged next to the girl, pulling the small book from my pocket.
She turned, and a huge smile appeared on her face, white teeth bright against her darker skin. "You came!" She trilled excitedly, clearly surprised at my arrival.

"Of course I did." I said, smiling back. It was the least I could do. If she was that excited over a little poem, I might as well make her happy.
Scooting up next to her petite figure, I sifted through the pages until I found the short piece.

"I'm Journee. What's your name?" The elementary-schooler asked, gazing up at me expectantly.

Journee.

That was a unique name. I liked it. "I'm Ali." I told her my bland, common name that my parents had given me. She nodded, and then snuggled up against my side. I paused, blinking down at her in surprise. A bit odd, but alright.

"Here we go…" I said quietly, hoping not to disappoint her with my tiny creation.

"A periwinkle sunset,
A china tea set,
The perfect light,
It's oh, so right."

She gazed at the sloppy writing, awe-struck. "What's periwinkle?"

I gave her a little smile. "It's a soft blue color." I explained.

"Oh." She blinked those cocoa-eyes at the poem again, before she adjusted her backpack and rose to her feet. "Thanks, Ali! You know... you're a really good poet." She chipped, before skipping away, curly black locks bouncing against her shoulders.

I leaned against the tree trunk and watched her skip away, smaller and smaller, until she turned the corner and I could no longer see her. The school was emptying now, just a few stragglers and the last buses remained.

I looked back over my quickly scribbled poem, scrutinizing it. Then I pulled out my pencil, setting the eraser between my teeth.

The breeze was cool, rustling the leaves. The grass was chilled, friendly to the touch. The slight bubbling of conversation was gradually fading. And the sky was a soft blue.
Periwinkle blue.

Then I began to write.

A periwinkle sunset,
A china tea set.
A girl called Journee,
Was a girl to see
The true me.

Story © Sunshockk.deviantart.com

Description
A Periwinkle Sunset
Writing Prompt #3
9/22/12

A periwinkle sunset,
A china tea set.
The perfect light,
It's oh, so right.

I chewed on the pencil eraser, re-reading my scribbled handwriting. Satisfied, I slipped my pencil between the yellowed pages and snapped the notebook closed, stuffing the whole thing into my jeans pocket. Glancing around the bustling hallway, I gathered up my necessary textbooks and notes before slamming my locker shut.

"What's that?"

The voice came from my left, and I whirled, dark hair flying about my shoulders.

"Huh?"

"What were you writing?" A little girl- she must have been in one of the lower elementary grades- was gazing up at me with baby doe-brown eyes.
I blinked, glancing down to my pocket which was fattened by my little notebook. She was just a young girl- she didn't know that it was etiquette not to barge in on other people's business. This is what I told myself.

"Uh, it was just some homework notes…" I lied, awkwardly craning my neck to look down upon her.

"Oh." She looked almost disappointed.

My school went from Kindergarten to Eighth Grade, though the elementary students and middle-schoolers were usually separated. How had she got so far away from her classroom?

"I just thought, maybe… you were writing a story." She lowered her dark lashes to her cheeks, embarrassed to be wronged on her assumption.

"Well, actually. It wasn't homework notes. It was a poem." I don't know what made me blurt it, but I felt bad for her. Underneath those two dark chocolate eyes I could see a deep sadness. She was all alone, without even a friend to join her on her trek up to the higher grades, for whatever reason she was here. Perhaps she was bullied. Or she didn't have many friends. She was searching for one. And I wasn't about to turn her away- yet another failed attempt at a new companion.

Her eyes instantly brightened, and she took a few steps forward, leaning on her tiptoes, much like a bird ready to take flight. "A poem? Can I see?"

I blinked, glancing around. I only had a few minutes until the bell rang, and the little girl had to get to her class.

"Tell you what. Meet me at the big oak tree outside after school and I'll tell you." I said.

She nodded, eyes wide. "Okay!" Before turning and trotting away, a skip in her step.

***

The bell rang and I skittered back to my locker, quickly opening it and carelessly shoving my textbooks and other junk inside. It was Friday. I was too lazy to nicely organize everything like I did every week day. Snatching up my cell phone, I closed it and turned around, weaving through the masses of middle school bodies as I tried to get through to the door.

"See ya Monday, Ali!" My friend called out, slapping my hand as I dashed by. I gave her a smile and a nod, but didn't stop to chat.

Fresh afternoon air burst from the doors I shoved open, flipping my long hair against my face. Annoyed, I brushed it back to my shoulders and continued to plunder through the plethora of people, using my elbows like weed-whackers. Why was everybody so[I] slow[/I] on Friday? I wanted to get home!

I was about to start down the sidewalk on my long journey to my house, when I stopped, turning to find the same doe-eyed girl twiddling her thumbs underneath the large oak tree.

I about slapped myself on the forehead for forgetting. I promised her!

Changing course, I made a beeline for the shady tree. Once arrived, I dropped my backpack by the trunk and sat cross-legged next to the girl, pulling the small book from my pocket.
She turned, and a huge smile appeared on her face, white teeth bright against her darker skin. "You came!" She trilled excitedly, clearly surprised at my arrival.

"Of course I did." I said, smiling back. It was the least I could do. If she was that excited over a little poem, I might as well make her happy.
Scooting up next to her petite figure, I sifted through the pages until I found the short piece.

"I'm Journee. What's your name?" The elementary-schooler asked, gazing up at me expectantly.

Journee.

That was a unique name. I liked it. "I'm Ali." I told her my bland, common name that my parents had given me. She nodded, and then snuggled up against my side. I paused, blinking down at her in surprise. A bit odd, but alright.

"Here we go…" I said quietly, hoping not to disappoint her with my tiny creation.

"A periwinkle sunset,
A china tea set,
The perfect light,
It's oh, so right."

She gazed at the sloppy writing, awe-struck. "What's periwinkle?"

I gave her a little smile. "It's a soft blue color." I explained.

"Oh." She blinked those cocoa-eyes at the poem again, before she adjusted her backpack and rose to her feet. "Thanks, Ali! You know... you're a really good poet." She chipped, before skipping away, curly black locks bouncing against her shoulders.

I leaned against the tree trunk and watched her skip away, smaller and smaller, until she turned the corner and I could no longer see her. The school was emptying now, just a few stragglers and the last buses remained.

I looked back over my quickly scribbled poem, scrutinizing it. Then I pulled out my pencil, setting the eraser between my teeth.

The breeze was cool, rustling the leaves. The grass was chilled, friendly to the touch. The slight bubbling of conversation was gradually fading. And the sky was a soft blue.
Periwinkle blue.

Then I began to write.

A periwinkle sunset,
A china tea set.
A girl called Journee,
Was a girl to see
The true me.

Story © Sunshockk.deviantart.com