Exceptional contest entry Picture This by Spiritual Echo      Sense of Place Short Story Contest Winner  Artwork by MoonWillow at FanArtReview.com

I have a few memories, mostly colours, that I can recall before I went blind. I was only seven, but that year, my Mama bought me a fountain pen and a bottle of liquid ink. It was called Peacock Blue. I spilled most of it, but in time I learned how to fill up the rubber tube, squeezing it just right to fill the chamber. When I put the nib to the blank white page and began to write, it was as if all my dreams were suddenly possible, and I tried very hard to be neat, to dot my 'I' and cross my 't.' That was the last time I ever saw lilac bushes explode, the purple blossoms dancing in the spring breeze and the warm rain that melted the last of the snow. I'm told that I got a very high fever and had convulsions. I don't remember any of that. I do recall coming home and turning on our brand new RCA television set and lying down on the chesterfield to watch Bugs Bunny. After that the next memory I had was waking up in the hospital. I don't know what it looked like and I can't even imagine. I'd never been in a hospital before, but I remember everything was dark. I could smell things, like dirty diapers and harsh smells that made my eyes water. There was a constant hum in my head and something that sounded like it was keeping time, like a metronome, beeping in rhythm. I had no idea where I was, but I remember being scared. Then suddenly someone took my hand. I felt the warmth of her finger tips seep into my dream. She placed my hand on her chest and I could feel her heart beat. It was only then that I understood that Mama was beside me. Sometimes I try to remember Mama. I know she had long brown hair that always smelled like the spring rain I watched wake up the flowers, so many decades ago, but I can't see her face, even when I try to remember long, long ago, But, I'll always recognize the rhythm of her heart. It isn't so awful to be blind. Mama used to sing to me and brush my hair. She said I was pretty, but that didn't make sense anymore. The only thing I knew, and still do, is that I was loved. Writing Prompt Write a 400 to 700 word essay describing a place. This should be a descriptive short story, make sure you describe the place very well. This place you are describing can not be a place in your imagination, dreams, ext. It has to be a real place, preferably a place you know very well. You do not have to have been to this place, and this can be a made up story. Be creative and descriptive! Sense of Place Short Story Contest Winner

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