chamyl
After his child had dreamed about the boys at school coming at him and throwing him into a dark pit, it became manifest that he had to check whether his kid was being bullied, and that he really had to hide his 300 DVD better.
Every time I get this sick, she thought, I lose my friends a little more.
They feel awkward around me, or they don't understand, or I become a chore.
Then again, I can make new friends once I'm well again. Then lose them. Then make some more.
Eventually, maybe some will stick around.
She wasn't sure whether she was being cynical or wilful.
Steady, steady, just breathe - he told himself. No one will notice. Your stomach overflows and your legs are covered in dark hair and your face - god, nothing is every all right with your face. But breathe, just breathe, steady, walk by all those people in their bikinis and sunglasses and jump in. Underwater, no one can see you, and you can't hear anyone.
Sometimes she'd get anxious when she saw her puppy lying down, his tongue out on the cold floor, his chest barely heaving, and she'd get even more anxious when she couldn't see him, and she could call him but he wouldn't answer because his ears had never worked at all. So she'd resolved to tying a red balloon to his collar every morning, and was very happy - not to hear his footsteps padding around her, since her ears had never worked at all either - but to see the red balloon floating around her table, her bed, her chair, all around the house.
The bite on his shoulder was nothing but a decoy, so that as he hissed in pain and smiled she could slip her hands down his pants, rake nails on the sensitive skin below his hipbones and make him hiss some more.
Honestly, she'd taken out a bigger loan than she should have. And she'd taken more vacation from work than she should have. And she'd flown way farther than she needed to.
But as she woke up and walked down in the streets of this new city, a city that smelled different, looked different, felt different-- when she felt the sun of this unknown country beat down on her face, she thought she couldn't be blamed.
In a frenzy he worked from morning to dawn, everyday, every single day, but there weren't enough thank you's - when there were any at all. It wasn't worth it, all in all, but it was all he knew how to do.
She adorned her pinboard with pictures of places she'd never been, paper sunglasses cut-outs, tickets of trains and planes her friends had been on, necklaces and candy wrappers received as gifts, and already she felt a bit better, knowing she wasn't going anywhere for now, but she was on her way there, because the decision had been taken.
At the end of the day, when the laundry was done and the kids were asleep, and the house was passably clean (but not enough that her parents would approve), and breakfast and lunch for the next day were clean and the cats were fed and the dog was quiet, she didn't just go to bed. She literally tumbled on it.
And that was the best moment of her day.
She decided to go for the dress with sleeves down to her elbow. She drank tea, and had proper conversations, and was complimented on her sleeved attire.
Of course, nobody needed to know about the black and red octopus tattoo hidden underneath.
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writing since 2013 · 14 entries · 14 days shown up
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