Writing 101, Day Eight: Death to Adverbs

Assignment: Go to a local café, park, or public place and report on what you see. Get detailed: leave no nuance behind. Today’s twist: write an adverb-free post. 

In a park, half the size of a city block at the corner of Main St and 28th Street.

Cool breeze. Like silk on my skin. Water in a fountain aiming for the sky.

Two children: girl in rose pink shorts, blue sandals, green towel, dark shoulder length hair, and red, knee high shorts. Holding the hands of a younger boy. Dashing in the direction of the fountain. Stopped. Changed direction. Now heading back toward me. Towels and slippers placed on the other end of the low, red brick wall where I am sitting. Maybe I look safe enough.

Trying to think of a way to describe the sound of the water without an adverb. Sounds like the waves of the sea coming ashore. Or is it the sound of a shower turned on to full capacity?

The breeze is stronger. Shadows are swaying. Leaves dancing. Laughter screamed.

Now feeling the warmth of the stones of the wall where I am sitting seeping through my jeans. Toes in my turquoise sneakers pressed against the ground, heels firm against the wall.

Two weather worn benches with dark iron frames facing away from each other as if in a huff after a fight. Laughter of children with the water for a soundtrack. Two lamps at attention at the end of the small brick and concrete plaza. Sound of an airplane engine. Engine idling as a car pauses at the stop sign. Fading. Shrubs the same height of the wall behind me. Brown mulch in a circle, hugging every visible tree.

Patter of feet in front of me, now moving away. “Yousef, my mom is here!” Spanish being spoken by the mother to a group of four girls ranging in age from approximately 10 to 16(?).  All five now sitting where the towels mentioned are unmoved.

Fading sunlight. Shadows of trees, vanished. Birds chirping now. Evening song.

I see the round moon, white against the faded-blue-of-a-much washed-cotton-dress sky. My cue to wrap this up.

 

 

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