The Finish Line
This is a little piece I wrote in my recent writing class. These little snippets are what I'm working on as a greater part of my memoir project. *** I stood in the dim light of the backstage with the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I nervously shifted my convocation cap and wiped sweaty palms on my black gown. Anxious sighs and whispers of my fellow university peers permeated the thick air as sweat beaded on my brow. We intermittently shuffled forward as each graduate at the front of the line eagerly sprang onto the stage to claim their place in the world of things. Families would be watching. Parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles. The halls were filled with the sounds of their laughter and shoulder slapping only an hour before. I wondered, would this feel different if any of my relatives came to witness? Did it matter? After what felt like an eternity, I was beckoned. This was my finish line. “Heidi-Ann Wild. Psychology Major, with honours.” I took a d...