Day 3 Challenge: Looking for the subtext within a photo; description exercise
December 5th, 2020
Title: Conversations with a Statue
Today's writing challenge from Writer's HQ was to look at a photo included in the email - and really look at it. I needed to look and find the text, the subtext and the subtext of the subtext. This was a vague exercise and I wasn't sure if the goal was to purely describe what was seen or if a story could be built out of it.
There's really no "wrong" way to complete these exercises, so I put fingers to keyboard and let the story begin. When I was looking at the photo, I kept going back to the statue. I was curious as to what his story was. What he has seen and how he might be feeling during the pandemic. Below you'll find the story "Conversations with a Statue" which is more the rambling of a stone-cold statue but none the less works in his descriptive surroundings. I've also included the photo from Writer's HQ.
It was early autumn in 2020, and the world as we knew it had been changed forever. The virus was actively invading our world, sweeping away any opportunities for socialization or celebration and replacing it with an isolation unlike any we’ve experienced.
I remember last summer when people would gather beside my still form and pose for a photo. I remember even feeling a little annoyed at the constant attention and never really having any privacy. Things are different now.
I wait, posed and ready to take on the world in the expectant manner I always have. Instead of entertaining tourist and locals, I now wait with abated breath for the world to return to some semblance of what it once was.
The air has begun to chill and the rich, green vines that strangle the wall of the popular café now look as reserved as the rest of us. I remember days when locals would rush by, brows furrowed in concentration at their phones. I would try to remind them to stop and rest, enjoy the beauty of the day and the fresh air. Many locals and tourist would listen to my plea. They would stop and sit upon the wall, nestled into the vines and sip their expensive drinks or eat whatever sweets they purchased. They stopped and enjoyed the moment for how rich and rare they were.
My favourite moments where when complete strangers would pause to offer a smile or mumbled “good morning!” to one another as they passed by. The smiles. That was one of my favourite and most missed occurrences. Toothy or tight-lipped, they all spread to one another and I could watch as one act of kindness, one smile, could infect more powerfully than any virus ever could.
The world is different now. Locals are guarded and tourists have fled the area, with no whispers around when they might return. The café that was once a popular hotspot for laughter, first dates and meeting a friend over the comfort of a fancy drink is no more. Their doors remain shut, a physical barrier preventing locals from entering with reminders of the pandemic that has stolen normalcy and replaced it with a lonelier, less colourful version of the world we once knew.
Instead of watching smiles flirt across the faces of first dates, or strangers stumbling through sleepy greetings, I watch locals scurry by. Smiles are hidden behind medical masks. Expressions are dulled and words mumbled through the cloth obscuring their faces. Coffee dates or lunch dates have transformed into virtual meetings that I am not invited to.
The lights still turn on when dusk kisses my face and the seasons continue to change in tune with nature’s call. The vines will soon slip into their wintery rest and in time the snow will blanket me as well. The lonesome streets will become more isolated as locals continue to retreat into the safety and comfort of their homes for work, pleasure and socialization on their video screens or phones. Life is different now.
It’s during these grey toned days that I remind myself of the days before the pandemic planted itself in our world. I can still see slivers of hope and kindness. I can still see locals travelling to work or for a distanced social event. Masks may dawn every face, but kindness and the longing for a gentle morning greeting still sparkles in the eyes of every passerby. Hope and kindness is not gone.
The days ahead may be cold and at times feel isolating. It’s important to remember on these days that the lights still shine in the windows of your café, just as they do with mine. I focus on the lights, a beacon of hope in a grey world. A spark of colour. I focus on observing the kindness that is still existent and will continue to quietly remind locals to stop, rest, and enjoy the fresh air. The wooden steps of my café will be stepped on once more. The doors will be opened to welcome you to reunite with friends over hot drinks. The streets will be a playground to smiles and awkward morning nods.
This is just another season of change and much like the vines we need to withdraw and recoup. Their lush summer growth reminds me that change is progressive and although it can be permanent, we can guarantee one thing – change will always exist. It is as old as existence itself and will continue to challenge, mold and encourage us.
So dear friend, I may not be able to see your smile. You may not be engaging in coffee dates and blind dates in our neighbourhood café – but you can still smile. You can still drink coffee. You can still date. Some day in the not-too-distant future I’ll look over you as I always have as you sit with friends under my gaze. And we’ll smile together.
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