Creative Sample: Fig Essay
Sweet Reminiscence It is so hard to find fresh fruit these days. Everything, it seems, is from some South American country or another tropical one three-thousand miles away. It is not infrequent that I find myself in the scenario I am in, walking into the produce department of a supermarket only to find overpriced fruits and berries. However, this time I pick one up, a fig from God knows where; it lies in my hand, softer and more malleable it feels than clay. It has a familiar texture, one I have known in the past, one that makes my eyes heavy until I must close them. And only when I do does the light appear. For that fleeting moment, with closed eyes, barely distinguishable in the haze of confusion, what is it that I see? A tree? No, maybe a park or a courtyard. I open my eyes and it is gone. What did I see in my spell of drowsiness, my blink of a sleep? I desperately try to remember; try to visualize the tree, or the park, or the courtyard, or whatever it could have been. In my fra...