The small brown rabbit buttoned up the bronze buttons of his new tweed coat and slithered along with the shadows until he had made his way into the haberdashery. He scanned the workplace for any signs of potential threats; his ears tilted forward and his nose constantly twitching. Some voices echoed faintly across the room. He slinked back into the shadows and waited until the voices dissolved into the distance. Hesitantly, he emerged farther into the light and began to make his way towards the boxes of freshly made hats. As soon as it became clear to him that no workers were near, he engulfed himself in the hats. He went through boxes and boxes of them. There were top hats and bowler hats and fedoras and many, many others. Finally, he came across the perfect page boy cap to match his new tweed coat. Unfortunately, he had gone through so many boxes of hats that the stack he had unconsciously created toppled over and crashed to the ground. The rabbit popped out of the pile with his hat firmly in his paws just to see two security guards rushing towards him. He scrambled out of the hats as he saw their shadows pooling around him. He sprinted as fast as he could and leaped out of the half-open window. He landed safely, albeit a little startled. Placing the cap on his furry head, he hopped happily to his home.

Journal entry #123 page 183

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stepped up to the podium. His palms were so slick they nearly slipped off the microphone as he attempted to move it towards his dry, quivering mouth. The roaring applause died down and silence entered the gymnasium. The audience began to shift uncomfortably in their seats as they waited with cautious anticipation for the boy to speak. A cough, the hiss of whispering, and the dead silence from his front row seated parents seemed to erupt across the floor, up the stage, and into the boy's ears. He opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to form the first syllable his eyes shut and his body thumped to the ground, unconscious.

Journal entry # 125 page 187

Bop

Eerily endless emissions emanate

From the stream of vehicles lining the highway.

All the while, waste is burned –

They throw the trash to their feet.

No one gives a second thought

Eyes down, feet shuffling

Eerily empty people

Who don’t realize the damage of a single selfish thought

“Not my problem”.

 Take and take and take

But no give and give and give

To the suffering life that struggles

To hold up the demand

Of human’s grand

Until it’s too late. It’s irreversible

Then they want to help;

“It’s not my problem” becomes “this is everyone’s problem”.

But no effort must made

Only a false sense of pride

That you tried to save it.

Evening

The dead silence of the room is repeatedly interrupted by the endless ticking of the clock.
And then the rain, pattering against the window.
A crackle of the fireplace.
A field mouse scurrying under the door to escape the impending storm.
And finally, heavy boots stomping up the porch. A sigh of relief fills the still room. The coats drips from the hanger and the dog breathes heavily.
A peaceful, relaxing evening begins.

Journal entry #112
Page 171

Viewfinder Assignment

The soft shape of the bud rests surrounded by a collar of sharp, dramatic, leaves. The light caresses the blooming buds; encouraging them to awaken. Spring is here! Don't be late! Bring out the colours. Fill the air with floral scent.

They search for the sunlight they desperately need and bathe in what light they find; soaking up the richness. A halo of sunlight surrounds the impatient bulbs.

The details are brought into focus. The fuzz on the bulb and the veins on the leaves are lit up by the light shinning through. It won't be long until the green encasing will reveal what is beneath.

Dialogue Assignment

Dialogue Assignment

37 Peveril Avenue 1961

Marlene Vellacott and Bob Swann, outside Marlene’s house.

“Where do you want to go?” Bob asked, leaning against his ’57 Ford convertible.

“We could go to the drive-in theater,” Marlene said, “or we could go cruising and then stop at the White Spot.”

“What about dinner at the White Spot and then go to the theater?”

Marlene shook her head and dropped her gaze. “I have to be back by ten.”

“Oh right. I forgot about curfew.” He said, blushing a little at his forgetfulness.

“How about we go to the theater and see what’s playing?”

“I would like that very much.” Said Bob, sliding into the driving seat of his car.

 37 Peveril Avenue 2014

Lauren Mainman and Graeme Keizer, outside Lauren’s house.

“Do you want to go to the game? I have free tickets.” Lauren asked, leaning against her 2009 Mini Cooper.

“Yeah, sure,” Graeme said, “Are we eating there?”

“Yeah, we don’t have time to pick up something.”

Graeme checked the time on his iPhone. “I didn’t realize it was getting late. I guess we should leave now.”

“Cool, I’ll go get me jersey.” Lauren rushed back inside and put on her Daniel Sedin jersey.

“Not Luongo?” He asked as she walked towards him.

Lauren shook her head. “I have to keep it in good condition to commemorate his memory. He may no longer be on the team, but he’ll always be my favourite.”

Graeme nodded. “Fair enough.”

Lauren smiled and slid into the driving seat of her car.

Free Assignment: Tale of The Starlighters

The Tale of the Starlighters

“What are those?” The little girl pointed a chubby finger towards the night sky.

 

“Stars,” Ashton replied.

“But how do they get there?” 

“Well, Talia,” Ashton considered the tragic recent event and decided an astronomical lecture was not what the girl needed now, “Starlighters of course,” he continued without hesitation.

“Starlighters!” Talia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. 

Ashton nodded. “Mmm-hmm. They climb huge ladders,” he extended his arms for emphasis “and they carry long poles that have a bright light on the end.” He stood up and began to act out the tale. “They find a spot in the sky and they STRIKE.” He lunged forward fencing-style and struck the air to demonstrate. “And the ball of light on the end of the pole lights up the sky!” He made a grand gesture towards the stars and collapsed on the ground next to the girl. “And then the starlighters climb back down, put away their ladders, and sleep until more stars must be made.”

“But how do they know when to make more stars?” The girl was fully engrossed in his story.

Ashton’s beaming smile faltered and his gaze fell to the ground. His voice lowered. “Starlighters make a star whenever someone dies.”

Talia’s face drooped and tears began to form in her blue eyes. 

“No, no – don’t cry” Ashton panicked. “They form a star out of a person’s soul so they can continue to watch over their family.” He watched her face carefully. Her tears had not spilled over yet. “It’s really not sad at all.” He held her gaze and took her face into his hands. Her lip quivered. “They still get to see their loved ones.”

Talia wiped away her tears and looked at the sky hesitantly. “Are my grampa and gramma up there?”

Ashton nodded.

Her eyes widened and her expression shifted. She was in awe. She paused for a moment, deep in thought. “I will be up there too someday. With them.”

“Yes. And so will I, and your mother and father, and Aunt Elizabeth.”

They both watched the night sky. The moon passed slowly with time.

The girl was still awestruck and Ashton felt he should be proud of himself for cheering her up. But he wasn’t. All he could think of was the truth.