Sharifah: Novel Opening and Closing

Opening

It was A Moment. One of those cinematic, unforgettable, timeless Moments which are imprinted forever in our minds. The excitement and the total force of hopeful expectations knock the winds out of you, leaving you breathless. For that Moment, everything is perfect and naïveté is still intact. Anything is possible. It really was, for that single sweet summer anyway.

It was a quiet Moment, just me and Larissa on the flight to Boston at the end of the school year. Then it dawned on me that the nervous excitement I felt was, for once, not reflected in her. Our almost psychic bond that was the basis of our friendship… Could it survive being uprooted and placed across the Atlantic for three months?

Ending

As I sat there, watching the waving figures becoming blurred and diminished in the rearview mirror, I felt as if a part of me had been torn out. Severed. Was it just the way I saw the world or had the world itself changed, making everything seem different? I was the same person, aside from the missing part.

All the things I had tried to keep from happening had completely disregarded me and kept going, at full speed. Yet it had not ended in tragedy. We had all hurt each other and thought it was all over, for all of us. Mostly, I think we hurt ourselves. Still, it was the sweet summer I had hoped for and it was not over yet.

Sharifah: At The Beach

At the beach.
The wind caressed my hair playfully the second I left the protection of the car, tickling my face with it. One inhalation and the sharp taste of brine entered my system. The early morning light seemed brighter and blinded my tired eyes. Waves hitting the beach and the sound of seagulls created a natural harmony, calming the soul. I kicked off my shoes and began walking in the sand. The coarse, damp sand left an uncomfortable feeling between my toes which had marked the otherwise smooth shore with a trail of footprints. The cool water provided relief for my feet, the smell of salt almost dizzying. The heat of the sun felt noticeably stronger, my cheeks not quite burning but more than warm. This pushed me to enter the cloudy blue water, dazzling like a jewel in the sunlight.

Sharifah: A Room Full of Love

A room full of love.

The generously-proportioned scarlet armchairs basked in the warmth emanating from the glowing fireplace. The tasselled cushions almost visibly inched closer to the gradually crumbling logs in the grate, away from the gradually crumbling logs in the grate, away from the iciness of the gently falling snowflakes in the windowsill. The late afternoon light enhanced the golden aura that veiled the rose wallpaper and bronzed the furniture.

The proud fir in the corner was half-decorated from the bottom up, a trail of sparkly tinsel wrapped around it dotted with metallic baubles and quaint trinkets accumulated over the years. The rest of the ornaments sat in a red and green striped box next to the presents, clearly from the early-birds who had done their holiday shopping early, waiting to be placed on the tree that evening by eager little hands stained with the remains of mincemeat pies.

The room was still, like the paintings on its walls. The only movement was the flickering flames in the fireplace and the small feet rushing up the stairs, followed by squeals of mirth as bathtime took place. The room seemed to sigh, as if reminiscing on past Christmases, in anticipation of the events of the night.