A Penny For Your Books

I saw a writing prompt from Writer’s Digest University that I am inspired to attempt. I have been drowning already in class readings (I also have an essay due on Friday) and work, and we haven’t even started the mandatory overtime yet. I don’t function well without a solid night of sleep, which is truly unfortunate in a time that I need to be efficient in every minute of spare time. I expect graduate school to be like this in some respects, but I also know that I won’t be working full time. In that case, it will be nothing like this. Thanks for reading my rant that complains about the same things everyone else complains about.

Official prompt: Setting the Scene. Begin a story or scene by envisioning the setting first. What is unique about this place? What does it look like? How does your character feel about this place?——–

Oaklie sat on her bed and allowed her back to rest against the wall behind her. She sank into the recess of the corner and pushed out her breath, shoulders curled inward and spine arched towards the reentrant corner. The blankets bunched comfortingly around her, and she could feel her daunting troubles sink, tension reabsorbed into the coils of the box spring. The rain pounded softly at the windows on either side of Oaklie. She let herself get carried away on the certainty of each gentle impact, at this moment assured in the promise of her own insignificance.

A faint creak in her steady perch alerted Oaklie to the arrival of another soothing presence–her tortoiseshell cat. Elma was categorized as a tortie by a single speck of orange in stark contrast to her dark fur, situated right at the edge of her nose; an arrow that now pointed directly up at Oaklie. That orange blot was followed closely by a pair of contented, slow-blinking dark eyes.

“Come here girl,” Oaklie whispered. She patted her lap, where her legs rested in a comfortable crisscross–a perfect throne for royalty like Elma. The creature gave a satisfied chirrup as she pranced into her designated lounge, careful not to scratch Oaklie as she began her satisfied kneading.

Oaklie giggled tenderly as she relaxed her head back into its resting position. She carefully stroked Elma’s soft fur, reveling in the resounding purrs. Each vibration reverberated in Oaklie, and she felt her shoulders relax and return to their supported posts against the wall. A small pillow supported her lower back, which allowed her body to completely release all internal support. Elma’s purrs resonated in Oaklie’s stomach and traveled up to her chest through her disengaged muscles. The vibration slowly took over her chest and replaced her own pacemaker cells in their purpose to keep her heart beating.

Woman and cat dozed as one, surrounded by the soft folds of blankets and the pitter patter of a gentle rain. Nothing felt as good as this moment, in her safe space, with her best and most trusted friend. Life was good.