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Echo Fall 2016
48
Write Like Rayanne!
Late Alli Hinchliffe
Rated: ★★★☆☆ Submitted by: Rayanne Anid
I am already lifeless at six am, 6:05 to be exact. Five minutes late. Five minutes past schedule and the anxiety from the absence of those precious five minutes swells in the back of my throat. No time to
Prep Time: 3 weeks
spare, my teeth should have been brushed by now, but I am five minutes behind schedule. Teeth brushed,
Cook Time: 1 week
hair neglected, makeup half way there but not quite yet. One, two, three, strokes of mascara, one, two,
Servings: 1
three, one, two, three, one, two, three. “Peyton, don’t forget your morning pills!” I hear the shrill of my tired mother’s voice from the crack between the door and the noticeably dusty crown molding. Well it was noticeable to me anyways. Thank God she reminds me of my pills every morning. Between being seven minutes late today and the haunting image of that dusty crown molding, her precious pills are the last thing on my mind throughout the chaos
“Here is my recipe for how I write all of my pieces! Typically, these pieces are written alone, but they can be shared with friends, family, or even strangers. You can adjust the amount of darkness and emotions in this recipe to suit your taste.”
that is my Monday morning. Four pills laid on my counter, the biggest pill is third inline which I quickly rearrange. My mom should know better than that. Counting, one, two, three, I take the pills, leaving the fourth
Ingredients:
as usual. Rushing out the door, I click the garage clicker one, two, three times and pull out of the garage at
1 Journal
exactly 7:00am. Exactly five minutes past schedule! “LEAVE THE GARAGE AT 6:55AM” I can hear myself repeat over and over and over again, the voice of my mind screamed it at me, making my head pulsate.
1 Signature Pink Pen
Although I am late I can’t help but to count every single tree on my way to school, and this morning some-
1 Really Close Deadline
thing is wrong. There are always twenty-seven trees on the left side of Robinson Drive, and today there
3 Cups of Self Doubt
are twenty-six. Or maybe I miscounted. I really did try to turn left on Mason Avenue considering I’m a generous ten minutes late, but that same creaming voice forced my wheel to make a u-turn to recount the
Emotional music
trees. “THERE ARE ALWAYS 27 TREES,” plays like a broken record in my mind until I make my way back
Rain sounds (optional)
down Robinson Drive. Twenty-seven trees it is and I make my left turn.
2 Cups of Dark Memories
I count one, two, three, one, two three cars ahead of mine. Six cars to the light at 7:15am. Anticipat-
Craving of Happiness
ing the light to change from that piercing red glow to a beautiful green, my mind wanders back to my bedroom, a room of clutter. A room I may vacuum every three days, but never satisfies inspection. A room whose clothes have not been color-coordinated in 24 days. A room that is so mediocre that it had made
Directions:
me forget that beautiful shade of green until it stung me in they eye, relieving me from the nightmare that
Gather your ingredients and have them out and ready to use. Once your journal and pink pen have settled
is my bedroom. My foot taps the gas as I head forward.
into your desk, decide you’re too uninspired to actually write anything. Don’t even bother trying for the next 3 weeks.
