Setting #3 – Results

2017-04-11 18.08.55

Gwangali Beach. Photo Source: Me!

See other Writing Exercises from this blog.

On Tuesday, I wanted you to actually go somewhere different and write about that real-life setting.

I was intentionally vague about where you could go – a park, doctor’s office, beach, rooftop – as long as it’s a place you don’t go very often (or better yet, a new place not too far from home).

Even though I work close to Gwangali Beach, it’s rare for me to get much time there. It was a nice treat to have time to sit before a meeting of the Busan Writer’s Group began.

Here’s the setting description I came up with. I tried to include sensory info along with a general mood.

The low waves can’t drown out the constant running of car engines on the road behind. I can’t lose myself in this crescent slice of beach, with the city wrapped around so closely. Its growling engines and blaring horns are a few long strides behind, and the island of sand is not wide enough to fully escape into the sound of small waves breaking against land. Even the horizon will not let me forget the city, with the great suspension bridge stretching over the natural sky, ferrying an endless stream of cars across a dimming sky.

The sun sets behind me, and I sigh as I brush sand from a bench. The feel of the coarse grains spurs a thought, and I look closer at the sand under my black Doc Martens. Dry brown, it breaks apart quickly as I scoop with testing fingers. There is no sign of the earlier rain, no clumps of dark brown or half-dry sand to tell of the rain that fell for most of the day. The hours of sun, brief as they were, were enough to remove the memory of rain.

The evening wind brushes a tiny patter of sand against my cheek. I turn to see children, tossing sand as they laugh, oblivious to the wind that chills as it billows my jacket. I take shelter in the jacket, clutching it close as I sit. As the children play, their Korean falls in my limited understanding, and I am glad to know their playful words.

The wind picks up, adding salty flair strong enough to drown the constant exhaust. For a moment, the air is clean, and within that snapshot, I can believe I’ve left the city behind. The moment ends at the sound of my alarm, a light melody playing from my phone. I look at the display. Friends and fellow writers will meet amid the grinding of espresso machines and the chatter of small talk. I rise from my seat, ready to leave the slice of beach and return to the city around it.

I hope you’ll share your setting as well!