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Learning to write My earliest memory is of opposites. The first is, clean, hard, glaring white. Standing on three legs in the center of the room, it glistens in the light, proud of its place at center stage. It wants the attention of all. If i try to ignore it, it screams at me to look at it. It grabs me and drags me into its center and holds me there. It does not frighten me, i like to pretend it isn’t there. I giggle as i turn my back to it and wrap my arms around myself trying in vain to resist it’s call and not turn around. But it always wins, i always turn around. It’s magic you see, and it cheats. If i close my eyes, i can almost see the negative of it still imprinted on my eyelids. The other is big but not as large as the first. It stands on four legs. It is black and fuzzy and warm. It leans against the wall in the corner, patiently waiting for someone to fetch it. I find that i smile every time i see it and long to give it a hug. Its fuzziness seems to attract me as well as all the dust it can possibly grab on to. In my mind it is like a puppy, sitting and watching til someone scratches its ears and then filled with joy it wags its tail. “Course, it doesn’t have a tail to wag, but i can feel how happ