Eric Herbert Santana ENN 198
November 26, 2008
A Free Write on Rock
Free write the black/white polka-dotted rock. More of it is in the air then on the surface of the earth.
Almost the letter “D” on its side. The deep, dark, black shadow underneath it’s curves. Curves that fight
against gravity as they point away from our planet. The pressure on the ground underneath makes no
audible noise but I wonder if there really is no sound at all. Predominantly white splattered in black
unnaturally. The rock is alone, touched only by air, air that connects the rock to its surrounding dirty,
paint stained brick walls. The heavy, grey floor so solid and scarred keeps this rock from reaching the
center of the earth. How many times has the rock scarred the floor? The rock, so cold and still, coming in
contact only with air conditioned air and grey concrete, battling gravity till the end. There lurk no other
shadows beside the rocks’. Black spots on a white, smooth, irregularly formed surface backed by a swirl
of red and orange brick, the camouflage disturbed by cracks that jut through like bolts of lightning. White
paint, dry and flaky, is worn by the wall like badges of honor. The rock… is it upside down?