I finally managed to complete a version of this essay that I actually liked. This was by far the hardest one I had to do, and any/all criticisms would be super super appreciated! Thank you so much!!!!!!!!
ESSAY OPTION 4.
"...I [was] eager to escape backward again, to be off to invent a past for the present." -The Rose Rabbi by Daniel Stern
Present: presĖent
1. Something that is offered, presented, or given as a gift.
Let's stick with this definition. Unusual presents, accidental presents, metaphorical presents, re-gifted presents, etc. - pick any present you have ever received and invent a past for it.
The sky was dark and the ground slick as Leo hurried out of his office building and into the hustle and bustle of downtown Toronto. He knew he was terribly, terribly late for the 6 o'clock reservation and could almost see his wife's worried face as he ran to find a cab. It was their first wedding anniversary and he had found the most perfect gift; he was sure Marie would be ecstatic. He finally found an empty taxi and ushered it over, throwing his coat over the seat as he clambered in. As soon as the cab pulled to a stop, he threw a twenty over the seat, haphazardly grabbed his coat and dashed out. As Leo stepped inside, a huge grin spread across his face at the sight of his wife, and he reached into his coat to get her gift. As his fingers gripped around searching, his face paled and the grin disappeared in realization that his pocket was empty.
As she handed her last piece of luggage to the taxi driver and climbed into the back seat, all Sammy could think about was the bright Miami sun and the feel of sand in between her toes. As she settled deeper into the seat, she felt something hard press into her spine. She reached behind her and pulled out a black box, finding something quite exquisite inside. It was quite beautiful; such a shame that whoever it belonged to had lost it. No harm done, she supposed, if she were to keep it. When she arrived at the airport, she reached into her purse to get out some cash, soon realizing she had nothing. Cursing her stupidity, Sammy turned to the driver to explain her situation. The driver flatly refused to let her go, and worried that she would miss her flight, she hastily held up the box in offering. The cab driver snatched it out of her hand, pulled out her luggage, and drove away, all the while grumbling to himself. It really was lovely, she thought, but it definitely wasn't worth missing her flight over.
As he sped away from the airport, Jack could do nothing but scowl. Women always had an excuse for everything! They'd forget their heads if they weren't screwed in, he mused to himself, but at least the girl had found another way to pay her due. He glanced down at the box on the seat beside him, wondering how much it would get him at the pawnshop he frequented. He thought about the heavy traffic he would encounter if he drove all the way there, and decided to park a few blocks away from the shop. As he made his way down the street, box in hand, he noticed a group of protesters in front of a pet store by the pawnshop and groaned. Jack had always hated big crowds, especially loud, angry ones filled with enraged tree huggers and big signs. He pushed through the throng of bodies, getting jostled this way and that. Just as he was about to cross the crowd, someone thrust a sign into his hand, causing him to drop the box. Jack yelled in surprise, trying to reach down and get it, but an unsuspecting protester kicked it open, its contents disappearing down a storm gutter and out of sight.
I left my appointment feeling fresh in a way that can't be replicated outside a dentist's office. The air was warm, the sky was clear, and the sun bright; uncharacteristic for Toronto in October. As I made my way down Bay Street, I happened to come across a quaint little pawnshop that sold antiques of every kind. It looked like an interesting place, so I decided to go in and look around. The shop was filled to bursting with ornately carved tables, beautifully hand-painted vases, detailed Renaissance paintings and case after case of jewelry. I sighed with delight, wishing I could gather every piece of gold up in my arms and run home with them. I continued to stare with longing until the shopkeeper cleared his throat and gave me a meaningful look. With a last glance at the cases, I made my way out. Just as I began walking towards the nearest subway station, I noticed a glint of something shiny come from the storm drain. It wasn't very deep, so I ran back into the shop and asked if the storekeeper had an old wire to spare. He disappeared into the backroom for a while and came back with an old wire coat hanger. Perfect, I thought to myself as I thanked him and dashed out. I sat on the ground trying to hook the hanger around the shiny mystery object. After quite a bit of struggling, and more than a few strange looks thrown my way, I got it. I lifted out an intricate gold ring inlayed with pearls and diamonds, so similar in craftsmanship to the ones inside the pawnshop. It was a bit dirty, but with a little bit of cleaning I knew it would be beautiful. As I slipped it onto my finger and made my way down to the station, I wondered how on earth such a pretty piece managed to get at the bottom of a gutter.
ESSAY OPTION 4.
"...I [was] eager to escape backward again, to be off to invent a past for the present." -The Rose Rabbi by Daniel Stern
Present: presĖent
1. Something that is offered, presented, or given as a gift.
Let's stick with this definition. Unusual presents, accidental presents, metaphorical presents, re-gifted presents, etc. - pick any present you have ever received and invent a past for it.
The sky was dark and the ground slick as Leo hurried out of his office building and into the hustle and bustle of downtown Toronto. He knew he was terribly, terribly late for the 6 o'clock reservation and could almost see his wife's worried face as he ran to find a cab. It was their first wedding anniversary and he had found the most perfect gift; he was sure Marie would be ecstatic. He finally found an empty taxi and ushered it over, throwing his coat over the seat as he clambered in. As soon as the cab pulled to a stop, he threw a twenty over the seat, haphazardly grabbed his coat and dashed out. As Leo stepped inside, a huge grin spread across his face at the sight of his wife, and he reached into his coat to get her gift. As his fingers gripped around searching, his face paled and the grin disappeared in realization that his pocket was empty.
As she handed her last piece of luggage to the taxi driver and climbed into the back seat, all Sammy could think about was the bright Miami sun and the feel of sand in between her toes. As she settled deeper into the seat, she felt something hard press into her spine. She reached behind her and pulled out a black box, finding something quite exquisite inside. It was quite beautiful; such a shame that whoever it belonged to had lost it. No harm done, she supposed, if she were to keep it. When she arrived at the airport, she reached into her purse to get out some cash, soon realizing she had nothing. Cursing her stupidity, Sammy turned to the driver to explain her situation. The driver flatly refused to let her go, and worried that she would miss her flight, she hastily held up the box in offering. The cab driver snatched it out of her hand, pulled out her luggage, and drove away, all the while grumbling to himself. It really was lovely, she thought, but it definitely wasn't worth missing her flight over.
As he sped away from the airport, Jack could do nothing but scowl. Women always had an excuse for everything! They'd forget their heads if they weren't screwed in, he mused to himself, but at least the girl had found another way to pay her due. He glanced down at the box on the seat beside him, wondering how much it would get him at the pawnshop he frequented. He thought about the heavy traffic he would encounter if he drove all the way there, and decided to park a few blocks away from the shop. As he made his way down the street, box in hand, he noticed a group of protesters in front of a pet store by the pawnshop and groaned. Jack had always hated big crowds, especially loud, angry ones filled with enraged tree huggers and big signs. He pushed through the throng of bodies, getting jostled this way and that. Just as he was about to cross the crowd, someone thrust a sign into his hand, causing him to drop the box. Jack yelled in surprise, trying to reach down and get it, but an unsuspecting protester kicked it open, its contents disappearing down a storm gutter and out of sight.
I left my appointment feeling fresh in a way that can't be replicated outside a dentist's office. The air was warm, the sky was clear, and the sun bright; uncharacteristic for Toronto in October. As I made my way down Bay Street, I happened to come across a quaint little pawnshop that sold antiques of every kind. It looked like an interesting place, so I decided to go in and look around. The shop was filled to bursting with ornately carved tables, beautifully hand-painted vases, detailed Renaissance paintings and case after case of jewelry. I sighed with delight, wishing I could gather every piece of gold up in my arms and run home with them. I continued to stare with longing until the shopkeeper cleared his throat and gave me a meaningful look. With a last glance at the cases, I made my way out. Just as I began walking towards the nearest subway station, I noticed a glint of something shiny come from the storm drain. It wasn't very deep, so I ran back into the shop and asked if the storekeeper had an old wire to spare. He disappeared into the backroom for a while and came back with an old wire coat hanger. Perfect, I thought to myself as I thanked him and dashed out. I sat on the ground trying to hook the hanger around the shiny mystery object. After quite a bit of struggling, and more than a few strange looks thrown my way, I got it. I lifted out an intricate gold ring inlayed with pearls and diamonds, so similar in craftsmanship to the ones inside the pawnshop. It was a bit dirty, but with a little bit of cleaning I knew it would be beautiful. As I slipped it onto my finger and made my way down to the station, I wondered how on earth such a pretty piece managed to get at the bottom of a gutter.
