Each week in this class, we had to write a different story. of the entire semester, this story was my favorite. We could write about any character in any scenario, as long as they presented an escalating sense of desire. This is my story:
She's beautiful. Red paint, chrome edges, four tires that would make any who looked upon her swoon. There was never such a lawnmower as beautiful as her. I love her. I've loved her for weeks. Why not me? She notices all the others, each one, but passes by me weekly without a second glance.
She's coming? Out, in the sunlight, her paint glitters with excitement. I know this is her favorite time of day. It's mine too – another chance to see her! But today I will get her attention. Today, she'll notice me, want me, love me. She's getting closer. Left to right, now right to left. Each pass draws her closer. What do I do once she's here? How do I stand out? How do I get her to see me, finally, notice me? Left to right, there she goes again. I could stand taller. Risk it all, say hello. What if she doesn't hear me? But I'm up on this hill, higher than the rest, she must see me, at least! This time. Right to left. This is it. Left to right. Nearly there. I'm standing my tallest, I know she must see me now. I'm here, I'm yours, I've got everything you could ever want!
She's turning. Leaving once again. Next time perhaps. Next time she'll see me, tall, green, and strong. I'm the only blade of grass for her.
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