The Idea of an Essay, Volume 3

2016 Composition Contest Winnners 29 freshly cut grass. As the car door opens, your eyesight fades as your ears catch a final question, “Same time tomorrow?” The world has gone inky black again. Raucous laughter and the clatter of metal silverware scrapping against dinner plates triggers your eyes into opening. You are at an oval-shaped table with a shabby blue tablecloth, surrounded by seven other people. You take in each. My uncle is at the head of the table; he has golden hair, small blue eyes and is wearing a white t-shirt with blue jean overalls. My aunt next to him has silver hair, a warm smile, and is passing around a pasta dish giving off the heavenly smell of mostaccioli. The two boys – Josh and Jeremiah – sit side by side. Josh has dark brown hair and glasses while Jeremiah looks identical to his father. The middle child, Sarah, smiles impishly at Jeremiah as she grabs a roll from her brother’s plate. She pushes her blond bangs out of her eyes as she denies every accusation he throws at her. The second eldest, Michelle, has short, brown hair and some dirt smudged on her face. She laughs at the witty joke Josh just made up. Joy, the precious baby of the family, has her hair sticking out all over and is making the yellow kitchen glove on her left hand talk to the belt in her right in a language all her own. “I’m thinking of an animal…” Michelle trails off. “Is it a mammal?” replies Sarah. You listen in as my cousins and occasionally my uncle try to deduce what animal it could be. You spear a couple mostaccioli onto your fork and savor the flavor of garlic marinara with hints of meat in it as you devour the dish. As Josh takes a bite of the pasta, he quotes the Lion King, “Slimy yet satisfying.” “Is that what you think? Well, maybe YOU can whip up dinner some time.” My aunt laughs. The game ends before long and my uncle pronounces, “Time for a reading before you all head off to bed.” The kids scramble to rinse their plates off in the sink in the little kitchen alcove behind you. You put your plate in the sink as well as you trail behind the family to the cozy living room. The two boys and Sarah arrange themselves comfortably into a sofa while my uncle plops into an armchair. My aunt leads Joy-bells down the adjacent hallway with whispers of bedtime and brushing teeth. Michelle curls up into a cushioned rocking chair with her brown locks falling into her face. You slide to the floor, your back resting against the steel gray, corduroy-like fabric of the sofa. My uncle pulls a decent sized hardback from the mahogany hutch residing close to his armchair. He opens the forest