Little White Dress Challenge, Day Two: The Cunning Optimism of Language

It’s day two of the LWD Challenge! (Here is what I wore on day one!)

Recently in Seminar, we discussed short prose. What it was, what it includes, who writes it. What I love about short prose is its ability to flee from a single definition, as it refuses to be tied down by criteria specific to its genre, it refuses to fit a mold countless writers, students, and teachers have fit it into.

That’s what makes reading and writing prose so enjoyable for me. Give me a delicious iced coffee and the brilliant works of writers who once too sat bent at the shoulder, notebook below and a stack of work to read, influence, and learn.

I have to be comfortable in the summer, especially when working, so today I fashioned my LWD lifted up and buttoned behind me, overtop a simple brown dress from my favorite Islash Boutique. I made sure to add a pop of color, one of summer’s biggest trends, with dangling blue earrings.

Here’s a small example of some of the short prose writing I have done so far:

Rain has much to say. It revolves around the buildings following their geometric forms, not ever cutting corners. Each drop becomes personal something to hold on to, something that holds onto a million eyelashes, unless otherwise repelled by an artificial force. I have fallen in love with rain because rain does not discriminate. In this case, rain is a connector without a color. Rain, perceived to be blue and lucite, often turns, washes down in brown. It combines with its environment, often lost, but somehow liberated from sticking in one area for too long. It soothes the most rigid of wounds and most disheveled of hearts.