#CRWR 213 Assignment 3

[yangyuege]

Flying not Falling

STORY 3 - Spider

When I first moved to Canada, I rented a small basement in Metro Vancouver. It had no windows, but the good thing was that the rent included a backyard for me to use so I wouldn't feel stuffy. My landlord planted two trees in the backyard, not very tall, but enough for shade. They are 6 feet apart from each other and many spiders choose to make their webs between them. I often wondered how these spiders reached between this distance, because according to my limited knowledge, spiders do not have any wings. This question puzzled me for a long time, until one of the idle weekends last summer.

UCL: https://theyearofgardeningdangerously.wordpress.com/category/garden-nook/

I was sitting in my rocking chair in the shade of the backyard that day enjoying my leisure time when I accidentally caught a glimpse of a baby spider. It was smaller than any other spiders I've ever seen in my backyard, even smaller than my fingernail. It was sitting on the end of a twig, pulling silk and trying to make its web.

Around 20 minutes later, it streamed out a very light but long thread of silk and  paused, seemingly waiting for a breeze to pick it up. Unfortunately, despite the spider’s efforts to lengthen its silk, it was too short to reach the branches of the other tree. I thought it would give up because it seemed like an impossible task for it, but the little spider didn't seem to care about its failure. It started to replicate a silk way longer than the last one, as if it had learned from its last lesson. After about half an hour, the silk finally touched a branch of the other tree with the help of a gentle breeze. But just as I was excited about its success, the silk was easily broken by an unpredictable gust of wind. I knew it was because the span between the two trees was large and the silk hadn't been reinforced yet, even though spiders' silk is normally quite strong.

“What a pity.”

As the light grew dimmer, it gradually became difficult to observe the movements of the little spider. The evening breeze made me a little cold, so I decided to go back to my room.

Over the following week, checking on the spider's “project progress" became the first thing I did every day when I got home. I witnessed the wind break the spider's silk and saw the baby spider almost fall off its fragile web for uncounted times. 

But the little guy seemed determined and really knew how to learn from the mistakes it made. It wove its web faster and faster, like a skilled engineer. Ten days later, when I came home in the afternoon, I found a sturdy spider web already hanging between two trees. There were only two small flying insects on the web, and it looked like the little spider had just finished this "magnificent construction.

The little spider was leisurely lying on its web enjoying this moment of success and quietly awaiting the arrival of its prey. The lingering light of the setting sun enveloped its body in a golden glow, and its shadow on the ground seemed extraordinarily powerful to me at that moment.

[celinekim]

Victory not Defeat

I have an assignment due that I have not finished yet. I ignore the feeling of guilt that is crushing me as my due date time is near, due at 11:59 tonight! The clock reads 3:47 PM. I know I have to start soon or I will be doomed. I will start at exactly 4:00. I will use these 13 minutes for some relaxation. 

It is 4. My pen feels so heavy as I force myself to hold it up and start writing. I carefully write my name and date as neatly as possible on the top right corner of the page. A kit-kat wrapper and three empty yogurt bottles catch my eyes as I try to write my upcoming sentence. This can’t be in my way or I won’t be able to focus on writing my essay. Before I even think twice about how much time I have left for the assignment, my hands start to clean the chaotic desk.

“Phew, now I can get started.”

I jot down the title of this assignment: CRWR 213 TUMBLR ASSIGNMENT. Then a flashing light brightens up the corner of my peripheral vision. It is an iMessage notification from Emily. 

I move aside my assignment paper and pen away as my hands naturally load in Valorant. My left hand automatically places itself on the worn-out W,A,S,D keys. “DEFEAT” the game displays obnoxiously on the screen. The feeling of defeat in my game and calmness only last a few seconds as I now realize the clock is shouting 7:31 PM. This can’t be happening. It's not really already 7:31, right? Maybe I am dreaming. 

I am panicking, but I have to tell myself to suck it up and finish the assignment since this is not a dream but a reality. I do not want to be stuck in this loop of procrastination my brain trapped me in. Even though this is not a physical threat, my body is entering fight or flight mode. My hands are clammy making the paper slowly soggy. I zoom through the assignment. I use 1000% of my brain power to finish. The last satisfying click is made as UBC Canvas sprays confetti all over my desktop. This time it is a Victory. I am now able to defeat my procrastination habits and rather than giving up and falling, I can now fly.

[assignment3crwr213]

As the CEO of Aberdeen Rovers Football Club, the player transfer deadline day is the most stressful day of the year.  On the back wall of my pristine white office, I even have a lucky golden clock in my office that I use exclusively on deadline day.  The transfer window closes in six hours and I am one day removed from my star goalkeeper informing me that he will be leaving the team for a club in mainland Europe to play in a more prestigious league and earn a five-fold raise while doing so.  To make matters worse, the team owner is furious and has told me I will lose my job if I cannot find a replacement.  Otherwise, he will have to explain to the team’s fans why the club is starting a new season without enough goalkeepers.  After running down the hall to my head scout’s office and asking for her reports on every goalkeeper we scouted in the past year, I get to work.

As the deadline approaches, the shortlist of goalkeepers we have scouted shrinks at an alarming pace.  With one hour left before the deadline, Jim Scott from a lower league team called Queen of the East is the only name that has not been crossed off.  I pick up the phone and dial the number of Queen of the East’s chief executive, Simon Bain.  

Judging by the way Simon answers the phone, he has clearly been made aware of our situation.  When my staff scouted Jim Scott, they indicated that he would be valued at about half a million pounds.  Simon, however, has changed his tune now that he knows we are pressed for time and asks for one million.

“Simon, I’ve got ten other goalies on my shortlist,” I lie as I nervously check my clock.  The deadline is in 30 minutes.  “If you’re not willing to sell him for a fair price, just tell me and I’ll hang up.”

“This sounds like a case of deadline desperation syndrome to me,” Simon replies.  “Three quarters of a million is the least I’ll accept.”

We go back and forth a couple more times before Simon loses interest and hangs up the phone.  I try desperately to find other goalkeepers who might be available. Just when I am convinced that I will run out of time, my assistant walks in to tell me that Queen of the East is close to a deal to sign a new midfielder, but does not have enough money to pay the price they agreed on.  As if on cue, my phone rings.  Simon is calling me back.  I check the clock and see that the deadline is in five minutes.

I give Simon the fastest pitch of my life.

“The most I can offer you for Scott is five hundred thousand.  This is a win-win.  I get my goalie, you get the extra money you need to get your midfielder.”

“That’ll work,” Simon says after some hesitation. He hangs up.

I take another look at the clock.  I have three minutes left.

I scramble to submit the player transfer form to the league office and take one last look at the lucky clock to see that I have saved my job.  With fifteen seconds to spare.

[notquitebutalmostthere]

CRWR 213 2020W

Assignment 3- Final Project: Tumblr Fiction

Writing Prompt: Waiting for the doors to open 

By: Andrea Lee 

[summeryoff-blog]

CRWR 213 Assignment 3

Baseball #HomeSweetHome 

[allycarey]

Suburban Fever

Scroll along to read 

Author: Ally carey

CRWR 213 CAP 

Assignment 3 - Tumblr Page

[yangyuege]

Flying not Falling

STORY 2 - Zither

When I was 9, my parents took me to one of the largest music stores in the town where we lived. As I browsed through the neatly arranged instruments in the store, I felt them staring at me with eager eyes as if they were waiting for me to "caress" them. I was so dazzled that I didn't know which one to choose until I saw a special one. Unlike those gorgeous pianos carefully placed on the floor, or the delicate guitars elegantly hung on the wall, it was the only one that was left in the corner covered with a black cloth. Even from a distance, I could see a thick layer of dust on it, as if no one had touched it or even noticed it for a long time.

"What is that?"

"A Chinese Guzheng." The seller replied impatiently, probably because I didn't pay attention to those expensive pianos that he had gently wiped with a soft cloth.

" I love it!" I said to my mom. I walked up to it, gently dusted off the ash that had fallen on the cloth, and then carefully lifted the cloth. Suddenly, a gentle woody aroma greets my nostrils. I knew immediately that this would be the instrument that accompany me while I grow up.

From then, every weekend, my mom would drive me for Gushing lessons, 1 hour per lesson, probably the most enjoyable hour of the week for me. After a while of playing, I got better gradually, and also got my first chance to stand on the stage - an instrumental performance competition. When our teacher asked if anyone wanted to volunteer for this event, I could feel my eyes sparkle with excitement so I raised my hand without hesitation.

But I also began to realize that it takes extreme patience and a lot of practice to play this instrument well. I have to admitted that, unfortunately, I was not the musical prodigy that I once thought I was. When those ugly and hard calluses started to appear on my tender hands, when I played the rhythm wrong and broke the strings over and over again, I started to become anxious. I couldn't help but wonder if I had chosen the wrong instrument in the first place, that maybe I shouldn't have gotten caught up in its specialness, that maybe a more widely known instrument like the piano or the guitar would have suited me better.

"No matter how it ends, I'm going to give it a try."  I encouraged myself using these innocent words.

UCL: http://image.baidu.com

And here I was, standing on the biggest stage I had ever seen at that time, wearing the gorgeous makeup and in a beautiful white dress with pink flowers lying on it. I took my Guzheng to the stage and my heart pounded. The spotlights that shone on me were getting hotter and hotter, and I could feel the sweat slowly trickling down my cheeks. But I knew that was not out of fear but out of excitement. With all eyes on me, it was as if I suddenly began to get the hang of it, and every time I struck the strings, I could feel myself resonating with it, just as I had when I first saw it in the music store. This wonderful feeling was something I had never felt before, as if my Guzheng and I were made for the stage. From then on, I knew I would never give it up, no matter what the outcome was...

When the host slowly raised the microphone and announced the winners in a rousing tone, my name was not mentioned. But instead of feeling disappointed, I seemed to be inspired and motivated. These emotions are the main reasons that supported me to obtain the Guzheng Grade 10 certificate at the age of 13, as the youngest student in our music school.

I used to be frustrated and upset by the mistakes I made, but in retrospect, those times were just when I started to realize I was an ordinary person. Life is a journey of repeated failures and rejuvenation, and only those who dare to “fall” will have the chance to "fly". Perhaps, from the beginning, being a famous Guzheng player was never my goal, but becoming a brave and determined person is what I ultimately want.

[yangyuege]

Flying not Falling

STORY 1 - Break up

[Bang] 

“Leave me alone, I don't want to see you anymore!" 

The car drove off in front of me, and I don't know if it was the dust or the tears that blurred my vision. A few seconds later, the original desolate surroundings became quiet again, leaving only the rustle of the wind blowing through the leaves and the chirping of unknown birds. The sky, which was already sunless, was gradually covered with dark clouds. It seemed like it was going to rain.

I don't know how many times we fought. People around me always said that they envied me for having such a handsome, rich and considerate boyfriend, and that I should cherish this relationship. But only I knew that I love him far more than he loves me. And I've been living in a fantasy world I created, hoping that he would eventually change and treat me as well as I thought he would.

A thunderclap pulled me back from my memory and the rain began to fall on my head, relentlessly with no sign of stopping. Although it was only autumn, I felt the cold stinging my bones.

I looked around and saw only a dilapidated thatched house with rickety walls, no windows or doors and leakage everywhere, but the good news is that the eaves can still be used to keep off the rain.

I grab my bag and walked quickly towards it. I made a soft crackling sound as I walked on the wet leaves. When I was standing under the eaves and looking around, an old man slowly walked over and put his umbrella away. The umbrella looked as old as him. I wasn't surprised actually, because he had been standing there since I got out of the car.

"It's raining heavily!" He looked outside and sighed.

"Yes, it is."  I replied. 

"Why didn't you keep going? This might be your only chance to catch the last train back to town."

"No, I'd rather spend the night in a nearby village than get wet."

"Seems like a good choice ...... You know, it may be a pity to give up, but some things just don't seem to make sense to stick around."

He spoke softly, but the words echoed in my ears for a long time.

... I finally picked up my phone slowly. This time, I didn't feel the emotion of reluctance deep inside, only relief.

Breaking up with what others regarded as a "perfect boyfriend" seemed like a failure to me, but in fact, it was this experience that made me more aware of what I wanted and what was right for me. Years after breaking up with him, I realized that he was just a passing visitor and that giving up on the wrong person was just one of the many experiences I had to go through in life. Ultimately, all of what I experienced, especially those wrong ones, will teach me how to "fly".

[assignment3crwr213]

I turn the key in the ignition a third time. Nothing.  It is the middle of the night and I am on my way home after dinner at a friend’s house, but it seems my car has other ideas as it has broken down on the side of the road.  Even worse, I left my phone at home, giving me no way to call for help.  Luckily, I am about half a mile away from my house, so I decide to walk the rest of the way home to retrieve it.

I live in a remote area, so as soon as I leave the car, I am greeted by the sound of crickets and rustling in the surrounding forest.  In the pitch dark, the fact there are no streetlights or other cars coming by immediately starts to get eery as I am left to find my way home using my memory of the road’s curves and bends as much as my own vision.

After a couple minutes of walking, I can no longer see my car.  It is not long before I hear a set of footsteps on the pavement that are not mine. I stop in my tracks.  Where I live, I have known for a long time that I share a neighbourhood with cougars as well as people, but with my two Great Danes at home and no flashlight to see by, this is the first time I feel truly vulnerable to the normally reclusive animals.  As the footsteps get terrifyingly close, I still cannot hear whatever is producing them.  Judging by how loud the footsteps are and the fact that I can hear the animal’s breathing, I just know it is something big.  The animal seems to stop about twenty feet away from me for a moment. There is a deafeningly silent pause before the creature bolts into the forest, making a noise so loud and so sudden that I jump up in shock.  As the sounds of the crickets take over again, I get my bearings and keep walking.

I turn onto my street where it is still completely dark outside.  As if to welcome me home, I hear the call of the owl that lives in one of the trees in my neighbourhood.  Having been so nervous for the entire walk home, it feels good to finally know I am safe again.

I can barely see the silhouette of my house in the darkness, but I turn to walk down my driveway and step onto the porch, fishing my keys out of my pocket and letting myself into the house where I am eagerly greeted by my dogs.  I turn on my porch light, look out the window next to my door, and audibly gasp as I jump back from the window.

Staring back at me, glowing from the glare of the porch light, are the eyes of the biggest grizzly bear I have ever seen. It is standing two feet away from where I was just seconds ago.