Peaches, Again, and the Sky

One of the opening writing exercises in the memoir class was to come up with alternative ways to say “She eats.” I kinda ran with that. For whatever reason that was the prompt I got the most out of. The other one was describing the sky. Any memorable instance you had involving the sky.

I had snippets of several moments with that one, but couldn’t really draw out any one of them into a paragraph, like the idea of a woman or girl eating a peach. Which was what first came to mind with “she eats.”

Here’s what I came up with, on the fly:

“The peach fuzz tickled her chin, as the juices ran down her neck. Each bite, soft and tender, into sweet, cold flesh. And the colors! So rich. A butter-gold yellow and a sunset red at the center, by the pit. Sunflowers blooming on her taste buds, the flavors of summer. The season would fade, and the fruit would wither on the branches as leaves turned umber russet fire. But this moment would persist, indelible.”

Just thought it would be fun to share that more broadly. It drew some ooohs and aaaahs in the class, for sure. Then, I felt like a show-off after having volunteered to read it (even if I hadn’t gone first) and didn’t want to share anything else. But maybe the instructor sensed my reluctance because after a few people read their sky prompt results, she asked me if I would read mine. Which was very kind.

Maybe I will also share the last of my sky imagery scenes.

It drew a lot of laughter out of everyone.

“Shooting stars in Mishicot, my first official Wisconsin boyfriend. You’d find at least a handful of stars to wish upon there, every night, so far removed from city light pollution. They say the stars we witness may already have burned out, but they outlasted that relationship.”

And now, to see if I can make some progress on my memoir class homework, before bed. As a way to unwind. Beyond half-watching The Lost Boys for the zillionth time, with yummy snacks.

Peace!