Wow. I wrote this my freshman year of HS (1999) and can't believe it's been online all this time! I knew they published it in a book, but online? NO WAY!
http://vandyck.anu.edu.au/work/teach/context/www.utah.edu/umfa/iwgall9.html#reynoldsThe Window Sean Reynolds
Highland High School
A cold breeze pushed into the tiny room, very little light shined through the curved window. Still it was enough to light the miniature room.
The teen boy was peering over at a colossal book, his eyes wide open. The book lay on a round ìescritoireî smothered by a soft silk blue cloth. The boy still involved in the book heard nothing. He fell into a trance. Like a blue pendulum on an old grandfather clock, his blue irises swayed back and forth.. He slowly tilted the book to the curved window, the light shining on the brown page while his irises still moved back and forth.
A large brown wooden bookshelf stood proud behind the boy, tall and wide. A globe and some books cluttered the wooden shelves. The bookshelf was like an angel looking protectively over the little boy. Next to the wooden shelves the stairs curved upward--the stairs he had once played on as a young boy. Now older and grown up, he had forgotten some of the best times in his childhood.
Cracks curved up the wall of the stairwell. A brown chair rested against the wall. A piece of soft cloth draped over the chair. A globe pushed upon the side of the chair, like a boy clinching his mom in a large crowd.
As he got deeper and deeper into the book he started to remember some of the things from his childhood. His eyes closed like a window into his imagination. He slowly pushed his arched back into the crevice of the chair. His mind open to his childhood--the one he endured some ten years ago.
The house stood far from the dirt road and swayed in the wind. Trees acted like a fence, a barrier, which separated the houses from one another.
Four brown legs galloped down the dirt road. They came to a crashing halt. A large black wagon was hitched behind a massive roan horse. A man in tan trousers and white boots stepped out of the black wagon, he adjusted his long overcoat and opened the white fence, he was followed by his wife and their three children.
The room was empty, a large wooden staircase climbed the white walls of the house. A large window was to the right of the family. A tall wooden door faced them. Finally the family split up to admire the house in their own ways. The five year old boy with brown hair darted around like a pinball. He flew up the stairs and came to a long hallway. At the end of the hallway a door was ajar. The boy slowly crept toward the open door and peered in. Another flight of stairs panned out before him.
He paused, his eyes beamed with excitement. He slowly turned his head around admiring the small dungeon-like room. He slowly stepped down the large cold stairs, his ears taking in every little noise, his eyes taking in every little image. Soon he stopped. The boy stood in the middle of a bare room. He came to the decision--this was going to be his room.
He slowly closed the book and looked out the curved window. His eyes focused on the children at play on the dirt road. A tear fell from his eye and rolled down his curved cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed, got up, climbed the steps, and left the room.
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Wow!