Vignettes (and two poems)

Today in my creative writing class we were asked to look at ads and write what we saw, in any sort of narrative form. Here is what I wrote.

Winter of Cats
It was the winter of fur-mixed snow,
of puddle-mixed paws, meow mix
scattered across linoleum laid across
his grandmother's kitchen by his grandfather
some decades ago. It was the winter of cats.
As he bundled up for winds--they climbed him,
they clawed.

Running
It is impossible to guess why they run,
with their perfect hair, form-fitting suits,
dresses--yet they run, sinewy limbs outstretched
for each other; round, beautiful bright eyes
panicked. But why?
It had been such a nice dinner, after all.

Newports
In the ads they all have perfect teeth--straight, white teeth smiling, gleefully celebrating each others' birthdays. What they don't show us is the good stuff. The aftermath, the cake splattered across the kitchen floor, overturned in a swift rage, the stained cardigan, the sudden downpour of rain that would ruin their afternoon plans, vague threats in heated arguments, her final, mumbling growl, "I need a cigarette."

Two Men Fighting
The sale at Joseph A. Bank had been highly anticipated by all the men at their small-time modeling agency, but especially to Charles, the crew-cut blonde who would have a future in Calvin Klein, and to Avery, with his naturally shiny, shoulder-length brown hair, whose career would soon end in a downward spiral ending in a Target photo shoot involving frisbees and cargo pant bathing suits. It was not foreseen by either that they would both discover the suit of their dreams that day. It was, as the local news would later call it, a suit worth fighting for.

Scowl
It was clear how this man had made it to upper-management, how the younger ones cowered in his presence, how he could still wear that pinstriped suit in this unbearable heat and not shed even one bead of sweat. It was not just talent. Yes, there was more to it than that. It was the man's scowl--my god, a scowl to send a grown man to a bathroom stall for a good cry.
A scowl like that'll take you places.