The Corner

There was a bench outside The Olive Garden where people could sit in the shade to wait for a table. I planted myself there to wait for Talia to come around the corner. A couple with 3 kids wandered in my direction. The parents joined me on the bench but the kids scampered in circles around the bench and the tree. The oldest boy . . .

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “the corner.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

2 thoughts on “The Corner”

  1. Maria hated that corner with a passion. It all began when she was about ten years old. If her mother determined that she was not obeying the rules of the house she would be punished. Her mother had an old wooden framed scrub board used for small items years and years ago. She would lie it flat on the kitchen linoleum in a corner. Maria seems to remember that her mother would then sprinkle some raw white rice on the steel ridges of the scrub board. She liked sticking that memory way back in her head. It was difficult to believe her mother did that. Then Maria was made to kneel down facing the corner until such time as her mother would tell her she could get up – that she had paid for her disobedience. That corner was only one of her sad memories.

  2. It was the cosiest , warmest , and loveliest corner in the whole of the house .

    Ravi remembers coming bounding in , his satchel flying , tripping on his shoe lace , hair all over his face , dusty uniform , barging into the kitchen , grab a wooden “Patta” ( a really low stool), plonk himself, and begin recounting everything that had happened in the school , play ground, class room , at the assembly , school play .

    She would smile indulgently , wipe the brow off her sweat , and listen to him , enraptured . The hands , of course , would be automatically making rotis . She was always making rotis , or turning some stew over , in a steaming pot , fanning the flames . The kitchen was always ops, the fire burning , and food cooking . It was the yummiest and the most welcoming place on earth.

    “What ?” “She doesn’t whack you with the back of the ladle ?” “Or shoo you out with the rolling pin?” Ravi’s friends found this behaviour of Ravi’s mother , highly suspicious , un-mother-like . Yes , she would gently tell him to take off his dusty shoes outside his bed room , place his satchel on the string cot, wash his hands with soap . And he would comply . But all this was accomplished in gentle undertones , and while he continued his stories , babbling , non -stop.

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