Lovely County Citizen

Page 23

March 28, 2013 – Lovely County Citizen – Page

Community Writing Program Spotlight Strangers in the Room Grace’s face was drawn in tight with worry. Her eyebrows were pulled down, forming a crease at the bridge of her nose. There was uneasiness in the room. This room was unchartered territory to Grace. There was a familiar awareness to the people that encircled her, but she still felt as though they were strangers. The emotional kinship toward the outsiders seems to come from a communal thread of uncertainty that connected from one to the other. Grace sensed a heavy burden was laid upon the strangers and it made her nervous. Her fingers fidgeted with a small quilt that lay on her lap. “I need to get home.” She thought. “I need to find Bernie.” Her attention was drawn to the hallway outside of the room. People scrambled in different directions. She wondered if Bernie was out there. Did he bring her here? Had he asked her to sit and wait for him? Bernie took her on many trips.

She remembered small intricate parts of her life, before the murky shadows moved in. Now old memories weighed heavier on her mind and seem to push down any present thoughts. It was earlier that morning when Bernie sat in his office, reading the newspaper. He hollered the headlines out to her, from behind his desk. He was excited to read that they were finally dedicating a memorial wall to the Vietnam Veterans. This was Bernie’s routine every morning since he retired. A tall gentleman stood near the window, staring out. His back was toward Grace as he braced himself against the large pane. He had broad shoulders like her Bernie. His hair was the same thick curls. When Bernie’s hair would get too long, the curl would fall on the top of his ears. He would complain and ask her to trim them for him. The man at the window turned and looked at Grace. Sorrow and guilt appeared on his face. As their eyes met,

Community Writing Program 2013 schedule Each workshop will be from 9-12 and 1-4. The cost for the all-day program is $45. 
The first five workshops may be purchased together for the discounted price of $200. 
 • Module 4 - April 20 & 23 - Subtext, High Events, Closings

• Module 5 - May 18 & 21 - Self-Editing and Publishing
 • Module 6 - June 15 & 18 - Writing the Memoir

 For more information and to register, contact Alison at alisontaylorbrown. com or 479 292-3665. Laurie Reichart has worked in healthcare for over 25 years. She writes about the human experience when confronted with the transformations of mind and body. She travels and explores various social environments and conditions. Her essays and stories are inspired by the people she encounters, their difficulties, their faith and hope, the things that strengthen and support them. Laurie has work published in Blood and Thunder: muses on the art of medicine, Prick of the Spindle, and stories forthcoming in the Rusty Nail and other forums. She drives from Fayetteville to participate in the workshops taught by Alison Taylor-Brown.

To support the emerging local writers of the Community Writing Program at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow, the Lovely County Citizen is providing space each week to showcase their work. Pieces will be selected by the program manager, and students must have taken at least one workshop in the Community Writing Program, which was launched on July 21. Selections from instructors and student mentors of the program will also be presented. For more information email alisontaylorbrown@me.com.

he forced a smile as he tried to hide his feelings. Grace noticed his chin tilted downward. It was the same way Bernie’s chin would slant when her beloved was discouraged. She was curious if this man was a relative. One she had met at another time. Her memories sank into the dark hole in her mind, again, and she struggled to capture even a small piece of recognition. Grace continued to fumble with the stitching along the blanket’s edge. Her hand found a loose thread and she began to twist the fiber around her index finger. She wound it up, let it loose, and spun it off her fingernail. After doing this for a while, she noticed a young girl sitting crosslegged on the bed. She was nervously entwining a lock of hair around her finger. As the young girl flipped the strand, Grace noticed a bright, pink apparatus in her ear. The device had a long cord attached. The cord led to a shiny, silver case. Grace thought the young girl must be deaf; this appliance was used to help the child hear. She did not believe it worked well. She witnessed the others walking up and speaking to the child. The young girl never responded. Time was moving at a slow pace. The tension continued to thicken, like the darkness in Grace’s mind. Grace felt her stomach was turning in on itself. When she took in a deep breath, she was convinced her ribs had turned into vices and were squeezing in around her lungs. Her emotions were pushing up from her gut. She worried she would lose her composure at any moment. There was a movement from the door that led to the busy hallway. Grace looked up in hope of discovering Ber-

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This Week’s Author: Elizabeth Mack

nie. A young woman reluctantly entered the room. She exuded the same bewildered, regretful tone as the others. She pulled her black wool coat up around her neck as if to shield herself against some unknown enemy. The woman walked steadily over to the man near the window. He turned as she handed him an undisclosed packet. His eyes filled with tears until they poured over, dropping onto his cheeks. Grace presumed the papers had contained bad news for him. She grasped at the small quilt, sympathetic and sensitive to the emotions that filled the room. At his moment Grace became weary of waiting. Out of confusion and disheartenment, Grace focused again on the doorway. In the shadows of the hallway she saw Bernie. With relief she yelled out, “Bernie, Oh Bernie!” Everyone in the room turned, startled, toward Grace. The woman in the wool guard came over and knelt down in front of Grace. She placed her hands gently on Grace’s hands. “Oh, Nana.” She said sadly. “Papa died a year ago. Do you remember?”

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