Writing Exercise

by Dominique Bernier-Cormier 

I asked my students to write about the future

and they wrote about standing

under a chandelier of moss. They didn’t write

chandelier, exactly, but I knew

what they meant. Jewels, hanging by a thread.

The shine and threat. I asked them

to go further. Cars just shadows of rust,

they wrote. Light streaming in

like in a video game temple. Further.

Ink turned to dark Dorito dust

and in their eyes I could see

the misspelled words of dictées

returning as bats. Even further. The faces

on the wings of moths

bigger than faces. I asked them to forget

themselves. The attendance list

burning at dusk. Every list. Further.

Further still. I asked them to describe

the silence. Not a soul, I said.

Until nothing of us is left. No human,

nothing of you, even. Just quiet. And still,

still, they wrote

It was so quiet I could hear

my own heart beat in my chest.