Wednesday, 19 February 2014

GINS Post 7

For this post, we were advised to write a free write for our GINS novel characters, exploring empathy.


I stand up from bed, feeling heavy and drained from the restless sleep the night before. The hardwood creaks beneath the weight of my feet and I look out the window of my small house. My heart aches for the warm embrace of my diseased father and I fall to my knees once I realize I will never see him again. I see the tall trees swaying in the wind and I am suddenly overwhelmed with memories of my childhood. I see the blurry image of Hassan sitting across from me, his genuine smile spread across his tanned face. I hear him saying my name and asking me to read to him again. I then see the fields of green behind him and tilt my chin up to look at our favorite tree; the oldest and last willowy tree that reaches so high it touched the clouds. This tree holds many of the memories Hasaan and I have created over the years. Ever since we were old enough to leave the towering gates of Papa’s house we would both race out to this tree, our dark hair flying in the wind. We would sit there for hours on end, reading stories and climbing its sturdy branches until Hassan’s father, Ali, would call us back home for dinner. Or at least I would eat dinner and Hassan and Ali would return to their small one-roomed brick house until they were needed for our assistance again. I never understood as a child why Hassan and Ali never ate meals with us in the grand dining hall or why they lived in their little home and not in one of the numerous empty guest rooms safe inside the walls of our mansion. 

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