The Great Gatsby Creative Writing

I wake with a start, slowly clearing sleep’s haze out of my mind. The blanket rides up, exposing my toes to the cold morning air. It is still dark, with a hint of sunrise whispering in the atmosphere. I blink and imagine everything in my room being frosted over; icicles hang off of the dresser, a hard layer of chill settles on the mirror, and little snowflakes pirouette downwards onto the rug, from a crack in the ceiling where I can see into Lucille’s room above. What a pitiful apartment building- with a nice view. I drape the blanket around my shoulders like a shawl and inch out of bed. The rug underneath is shaggy, warm enough. Step by step, I am moving closer towards the territory of the hardwood floor. It’s lightly stained to an apple

They complement the scent of the hallway- clear pale blue. He looks like the snowy season. I wonder how his morning went and if it was anything like mine. He is delicately pale, contrasting his dark brown locks. I wouldn’t want to shatter his porcelain outline. He sometimes reminds me of a dog. Maybe it’s his face. It’s honest and loyal. It seems like he would be careful about hurting you and of you hurting him. I don’t know Jack/Jacob very well. I wish I did. We continue down the corridor without a word passed between us. In the elevator, we just lean against the walls and observe each other. I wonder if he can see through me into the greyness. It feels like it. Back on ground level. I consider taking his hand and claiming it for my own forever. His fingers are long and perfect. A last wistful smile and we go our separate ways.
Beyond the glass entryway, the air outside is thin and bitter, making it hard to breathe. My nose is quickly numbing. I march across the white expanse of icy sidewalk, counting my footsteps and avoiding cracks. The entrance to the subway tunnel is lit up in orange; the sound of the daily commute is an spiteful reminder that I am now in the real world. I take a last look back at the brick apartment building, looking forward to skipping back to the lobby tonight. A deep breath, and I am again lost and forgotten in a current of