Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Suburbs

Poems are not one of my black holes, But this (post) is a school assignment

21st January 2014

Tuesday


Dear diary,


Today Margaret Atwood and I went to the suburbs. It was a very peaceful and quiet place; the houses were arranged in exact and precise rows. They all have the “same slanted roofs” that look as if they are trying to avoid the “hot sky”, the same red door and two white, wide windows on each side. The planners have planted clean trees that claim “levelness of surface”. It is a simple, relaxing and perfect place for anyone who loves calmness and silence, like me.  Everything is so organized and alike, it felt almost magical.
 

We saw a few small shops, identical to the houses, red doors and slanted roofs, but they were empty with no customers visible. There was no noise or sound of any kind; no shattering of glass or shouting like in the city, only the sudden “whine of a power mower” that cuts the grass in straight rows or tracks. Everything, including the houses, roads and even the noise, is so mathematically calculated. It is a simple but perfect place.


There is a “splash of paint on brick”, which is very surprising, the “smell of spilt oil” and a “plastic hose” composed in a “vicious manner”. These things show that not everything is perfect, even if you try so hard to make it perfect. These are the imperfections of this almost perfect suburb. It is an ideal place to go to for relaxation and for peace of mind. Not many people were in sight, only a few teenagers reading novels or listening to music while lying under the sun.

All in all, today was a wonderful day and we visited a wonderful place, hopefully, I’ll be able to move in, in a few years time.
 Good Night


Aisha

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