Lesson Three - Writing

Characters Class – Week Three – Writing Assignment

         

         Jack breathed in the clean smell of furniture polish and saddle soap as he entered his room.  He stripped off his flannel shirt, shook it out, and hung it on a peg on the rack on the wall.  He checked to make sure he had clean clothes to change into before the party later that afternoon.  Then he went to the window and stared out for a moment, lost in thought.

         Plain curtains of white muslin fluttered in the breeze that rushed through the open windows, causing them to flap like the sails of a tall ship. The morning sun cascaded in the east window, glinting fiercely on the foot rail of the polished brass bedstead.  It also formed a brighter, lighter patch on the end of the faded quilt that covered the bed. 

         Jack perched on the far side of the mattress.  He took his socks off and examined them before rolling them together and tucking them in his boots.  Then he set them neatly beside his other, newer pair, beneath his bed.  The floor was of wide old boards, worn smooth by years of use.  It was swept clean and was bare except for the small oval braided rug next to the bed.  Even it was clean and well-brushed.

         The walls of the corner bedroom were covered in a patterned wall paper yellow with age.  The paper might have once been cornflowers on a sunny yellow background, but now it was too faded to tell.  However, the painted woodwork and chair rails were scrubbed white. 

         The nightstand next to the bed stood empty, except for a single framed photograph centered on a linen cloth.  The picture was of Jack’s parents on their wedding day.  The ornate silver frame had been the one thing of any value in their house.  Jack had slipped it into his valise, hidden down among his clothes. 

         His uncle would have sold it; just as he had sold the few meager possessions he and his father had had in an attempt to pay off their few debts.  Jack knew he couldn’t let that happen.  So he had he had taken it before his uncle arrived, and he’d kept it hidden for a very long time.  He was out of school and earning a wage of his own at the mill before he set it out.  But he’d always look at it, and remembered his parents—especially his mother.  He also talked to them of his plans for the future. 

         He intended to ask Chloe for a photograph of herself before she left for college.  He’d found a mate to his silver frame in a shop in town.  It had taken a while, but he’d scrimped and saved enough of the money he allotted himself to procure it.  It was there now—in his dresser—waiting for the right time to come out to stand beside his parents’ picture.  And of course, they would both travel with him when he left home later in the year.