Pulling Something Out A Box

'Only a wolf howls. Nearby for some reason.
Broken down VW.
The houses are burned out, covered absolutely with slime. They stand resolutely.
It's Friday, spring, mid-afternoon, sunny.
One person, only bones, glowing yellow eyes. He wears a dark cloak, and is very slow in his walk. Like the Grim Reaper.
There are no stores. It's a slum.
The smell of rot is all over it. I feel like I will throw up.
I reach the corner and turn back. Nothing changes. The Reaper turns back, pulls out his reaper and disappears. All is silent.'

Apparently I wrote that in 8th grade. It shows, in some of the vocabulary, certainly. I can't believe I didn't know the word "scythe". I'd like to say the awkwardness of it was intentional, but I doubt it. At best, it's a pure representation of how it formed in my mind. At worst, I didn't notice how clunky it is in places at the time.

My mom had a typed copy we found in a box a few months ago. Until she showed it to me, I had no memory of writing it. I still can't recall why I wrote it. Not why that particular set of sentences, or why I was writing at all. English class is the obvious answer, but this doesn't feel like something I'd write for 8th grade English. I titled it "Brainstorming", but I don't remember anything I wrote drawing from it. I don't remember any creative writing I did for junior high English courses, just the standard book reports. I suppose I wrote it because it seemed cool. It's funny that after I saw it, I could picture what I visualized as I was wrote it. I just can't picture what was around to fill in the details of what brought it about.

I do remember the stories I wrote for my 11th grade English class' Creative Writing unit, all of which were junk. Lots of violence with no point to it other than to be violent. Cannibalism, nuclear holocaust, students being killed by overbearing, power-mad teachers (who suffer no repercussions, of course). Attempts at topical humor, which OK, I haven't shaken that tendency, but I use it more naturally here on the blog than I did back then. It all seems terribly uncreative to me now, but I know High School Calvin thought it was great.

I wish I had my notes. We were encouraged to write stream of consciousness as a way to generate ideas, and I'd like to see what else I came up with. I remember something about Sam Houston and Santa Anna having a fistfight (then sharing some pie), that originated in a conversation with my friend Jesse. I'd like to see what ideas I had back then that appeal to me now, versus what I know appealed to me back then.