I’m currently taking a class in southern India, two weeks down and one left. As a project, I’m writing a story each day about what I’m experiencing, but as a twist I’m tryig to put them in the POV of locals. Today’s snippet is from “Dust,” a story I wrote about a beggar woman on the street.
Dust is everywhere. It blankets the streets and sidewalks, stray dogs and abandoned sandals and trash. It is kicked up by passing buses and motorbikes and rickshaws, mixing with their exhaust to form a perpetual haze above the city. Dust, along with the scents of garbage and spices and a million people crammed together, is inescapable.
Gheeta, a creature of the streets, has been surrounded by dust for so long she no longer notices it. It cakes her bare feet, decorates her sari and hair, and flavors whatever food she is lucky enough to have.
“Feed Gheeta,” she keens as she approaches them, pantomiming scooping food to her mouth, “feed Gheeta.”
They walk on.
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I wonder what she is living on for, what gives her the strength to ask people for food everyday. This is amazing!
Dust. The word makes my skin crawl picturing the scene. And then the woman pantomiming food into her beggar’s mouth. I’m a heap of dust right now.
What an interesting writing project! I was very impressed with the amount of details you included in this snippet. Great job and have a great time in your class.
I am there. Very good.
How awful. You’ve painted the setting so vividly with your words.
Wow, so very vivid. Your description was amazing and I felt so sorry for the woman – you certainly took me there, into the dust and the misery. Powerful excerpt!
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