Pinpointing Me

1

The rainbow, in the gray. Just outside my grandmother’s house, a double rainbow formed. A little glimpse of color, nothing artificial. The first blossom of an idea.

2

A soft blanket, a touch of home when I was away. Carrying the promise of a quiet, dark room, and a time to dream. Fall into another world.

3

The library. A palace of stories. Unwavering bliss in the embrace of a book.

4

Graphite and crayons sculpting a gateway to another realm, limited only by hands and imagination. The mind moving fingers across paper, no finish line in sight.

5

Little alphabets that hang on walls, begging to be admired. Offering escape, if you can understand. Messages that few could read, but the code was clear to me.

6

Aisles of stories, too many to pick. The bag on my shoulder too heavy for a child, continually filled. Wanting for more of the neverending piles of possibility.

7

A light purple chair with white polka dots offered rest. Space to run to the worlds carried in my hands. A million truths beneath manicured covers.

8

Sharpies that wrote my name across my books. Something that I owned. Something that was mine. Claiming it. Staking the territory that I had worked so hard to earn.

9

The American Flag, a chance to be seen. To share my words. To show who I am. The moment that I realized I would need to work harder. The insignificant moment to my classmates, a defining one to me.

10

My stories that never left. Reshaped and revitalized, again and again. Following me through my journey. Seeing what I’ve become now, versus what I was then. Me.

Reagan Shin is a writer and rising senior attending high school in Virginia. She is currently assembling her portfolio for university and enjoys writing prose and short fiction in quiet corners of libraries and cafés.