Writing
Personality workshop
Expressive
Amy was quick to jump when she
stuffed everything into her suitcase, threw it into the backseat of her car,
and left her childhood home behind. She took one last glance in the rear-view
as dust flew up behind her mustang and clouded the last vision of home she would
ever have. Turning 18 brought freedom and the opportunity to follow her own
desires and get out of this po-dunk town. She wanted to live in the city of
flashing lights and neon signs. Two-million people jam-packed like sardines.
She turned up the sound of the
radio and belted out every song. She was ecstatic. Ready to find a job in a
restaurant, an art gallery, whatever. Maybe find a loft to rent with a couple
of flat mates. Anything as long as it was her making the decision.
Analytic
Miranda was carful in packing
all of her books, paying extra attention not to bend the pages. She couldn’t
believe that the university had called her off the wait list. Her heart beat
faster as she thought about leaving the safety of her quaint apartment. She played
the move over and over in her mind. Should I stay? Do I really need to go to
college?
She internally checked the pro’s
off. Need college for future. Yes. Want to provide for my family someday. Yes.
There really was no backing out. This was the move she had planned, down to the
T.
Likely
conversation between the 2
“You are so messy,” Miranda said.
“I swear it’s like you come home every night and throw things down as you make your
way through the apartment.”
Amy stood with her hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry if I have places to be. Not everyone in the world is a bookworm.”
Miranda held up a plate that she
grabbed from the counter. “Look at this. I think this burrito is glued on.
Everything has a place. Dishes have a place. We have a dishwasher.”
“Here. You want me to deal with
that burrito? I’ll deal with the burrito.” Amy snatched the plate and threw it
in the trash.
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