Saturday, September 1, 2012

Writing Challenge 1/12: Something Green

Tiffany Clutter's submission:

When I was a child I walked through a park with an older cousin in NJ. I don't remember where this park was. All I remember is being surrounded by dense green plant life. I have never experienced anything like it before or since. The vegetation smelled green and damp. It was so strong I could barely breathe. I find this very ironic. We breathe out CO2 that the plants breathe in to create oxygen for us to breathe. Was I being smothered by oxygen? A green child's fantasy.

Carrie Giauque's submission:

As long as Sandra could remember she had one view of the world. It never seemed weird or unusual to her that her whole world was colored green. When she would describe pictures she would describe them down to the most amazing detail because she only saw them in shades of green. It took years for someone to realize her predicament and many more before someone came up with a solution.
Dr. Stance was the Chief Osteopathic Surgeon at Providence Hospital in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Stance specialized in laser surgery and reconstruction of the retinas. When Stance met Sandra, he immediately was drawn to the challenge of reconstructing Sandra’s cones so she could see in full color. Rather than being interested in helping Sandra, Stance saw the opportunity as another piece of research that would lead to yet another award. He was your classic work-aholic physician with no hobbies, no real friends, and whose wife sought the attentions of other men because he never had time for her.
On their first appointment, Dr. Stance conducted the standard eye exam and took detailed photos of Sandra’s eyes. He watched how the pupils dilated and measured the distance between the lens and the cornea. He never noticed the color of Sandra’s eyes, which were emerald green. He never noticed how nervous she was or how uncomfortable she was as he poked one of the most sensitive parts of the body.
Sandra, however, with nowhere else to draw her attention, examined Dr. Stance. She noticed the small scab on his left jaw where he had cut himself shaving that morning. His watch was of some expensive brand that she had never heard of, but she saw his watch was five minutes fast, and surmised he was one of those people who hated to be late. Stance was wearing a pink pinstriped shirt with a thin purple tie with a subtle complimentary pattern. Sandra only saw the clothes in green, but what she noticed was the lack of ironing and the small faded stain on the shirt from a hastily eaten hotdog. Sandra saw the unhappy home life in those clothes. It was obvious to her that while Stance’s wife enjoyed spending his money and had purchased the ensemble, his wife had no intention of doing his laundry or running his clothes to the cleaner. It saddened Sandra to see such unhappiness.
On the day of the surgery everything went smoothly and early indications led Dr. Stance to believe it would be a huge success. Sandra was left to recover alone in a room with her eyes completely bandaged. She thought of all the songs that talked about the colors of the rainbow and wondered what it would be like the first time she saw one. Nervousness was replaced with excitement as the doctors all filed in to see the results of such a pioneering procedure. Dr. Stance removed the bandages and the whole scene seemed so cliché to Sandra. When all the bandages were removed, she opened her eyes, letting them readjust to the light.
“Can you see?” asked Dr. Stance.
Sandra looked around, “Yes.” It was all in brilliant color with rich hues that Sandra had never before seen. It was almost overwhelming to her senses with the bright blue hospital walls, the blinding white curtains and sheets, and the rainbow of colors on the shirts of the physicians. Sandra took it all in and studied each person from head to toe trying to get a reading in the same way she always had. She started to get teary eyed.
Dr. Stance interpreted her moist eyes as pure joy and so asked her, “Describe what you see.”
“I see…nothing.”

Here is my own (a bit morbid):

Green is the color of life.
The symbol of hope.
Beneath the green carpet that covers the earth lies all we fear. We remove the carpet of green to reveal the dark soil. This is where we keep the dead. Every one of us will end up underneath the green some day. Pushing up the daisies from below, the color of life only a distant memory of a different world. Until the parts that made our bodies, the molecules and atoms, rise back up to the surface to become part of the green.
Alive again. Hope once more.

Please link up at the bottom with your take on 'something green'.

Next month's Writing Challenge topic will be: a feminist fairytale. Please send submissions to by 10/01/2012 or link up at the beginning of next month.


  1. I love the green of my backyard. I have lots of gardens and trees. Gentle sigh...

  2. Tiffany-- I like your fantasy!
    Carrie-- My boys only literally see the world in blue and shades of blue. The only exception is that small selection of yellows/greens that they comprehend as yellow.
    Achromatopsia occurs in the USA, on average, 1/44,000 people. Many of these, like my boys, have very limited color vision, and in fact only see the world in shades of one color. The other achromats only see in black and white.
    Still, I would like my boys to be able to see a rainbow one day. God's Promise... poetry via the sky.
    But still an interesting perspective. When I read "Island of the Colourblind", they discussed how Knodt (a complete achromat) saw the world compared to the author. And Ansell Adams made a career out of focusing on the non-color details of photography.
    Vivien-- I don't think yours is morbid. It's true, and it holds hope.
    Well, the last entry is mine, so the only comment I will make to myself is GREAT JOB! :D

  3. Well. I can say that i am very intimidated to participate. You *both* knocked it out of the park. Ive got the topic for next month and promise to link up. I am intimidated though. This is such a great idea.