Last night, while facetiming with a friend of mine, I was told to describe the ceiling while he had the phone setting on his desk. I called him crazy and ignored the request. Why would I describe a plain white ceiling? But after we hung up, I found myself thinking about it more and more. It’s actually a pretty common writing exercise, describing the mundane and turning it  into something interesting. I laid in bed, staring at my own ceiling, and decided I had to give it a go. Here’s what I came up with. Enjoy! 

I gaze up at the textured ceiling as he pulls his arm sleepily around my waist. The ceiling is the dirty, off-white color that you’d expect from a cheap motel like this one, but with the moonlight streaming in, it almost appears to be glowing. I’ve grown accustomed to this routine: he falls asleep, effortlessly, somehow, while I stare at the ceiling. This is the eighth one I’ve examined in the past four weeks. We’ve been couch surfing; shuffling between friends, relatives, and the cheapest motels we can find. Every place is different, but the ceilings have a comfortable monotony to them. There’s very little variation; maybe one is more textured, or more beige, or more stained, but essentially they’re the same. It’s the kind of thing you take for granted. You never quite realize how comfortable you were sleeping in one place until you find yourself sleeping somewhere new every few days. We’re constantly moving, but with his steady breath nickling my neck, and the expanse of white above me, the world slows down. I’ve begun to find bits of home in these ceilings, next to him.

It’s not much, I know. However, this is one of my favorite types of writing. I love writing little snippets of narratives, things that could potentially fit into any random story. So, I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them, because I think I may be writing more of these soon…

Stay tuned for more updates,

xoxo, second sister suzie

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