Practice Essay~Greenhouse

The trees stretched their long thin limbs over beds of newly planted vegetables, fruits and flowers alike. Crisp lively leaves swayed in harmony with the emanated soft soothing breeze from the clear door to my west. Beams of light shone onto the plants, performed simple magic of heat which made me slightly sway my head and felt the need to shut down my body systems for a brief moment. Different limbs of thickness and sizes grew tall and straight, aiming to be blessed by the love and warmth of the giant fire ball hanging in a sea of blue and white cotton candy. Thought the only thing that prevented any of these sons and daughters of nature to grow any taller and fully receive the blessing of their God, was the thin towering sheet of differently shaped glass that were held and captured by angular pieces of steel. I could taste the raw bones of coldness. The cold and sharp edges that would have pierced any skin and flesh of my twig- like four bronze skin.
The greenhouse was something that I used to treasure dearly. A place where I could let my sound waves with high frequency and pitch bounce off irregularly off the glass walls. Let the wind ruffle my hair until my lightly bleached threads knot together and form a fuzz ball. Let the sweet scent of nature engulf my senses and soft thin petals tingle my fingers as gentle as cat’s fur. The violent rustling of leaves would’ve reflected my magenta dyed of pale creamed face. The constant shaking of branches and twigs would’ve paralleled the waving of my arms. The greenhouse was a place where I loved. It was a place where the nature listened to my inner thoughts and shared the same intentions and thoughts as me. It was a place where I out my trust in and relaxed every part of my limbs without having the fear of strangers entering. It was a place I loved and cherished. It was my secret place.
This night is not unlike so many others. I hurt, inside and out, and I think that it may be the residue of grief. It seems as though...